Signal Fire
by FMellark
Summary: They live in an world above ashes of war. A religious organization takes over the entire nation organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages. AU. My first fic, so be nice.
1. Hollow Man

**Genre:** _Romance/Drama/Alternative Universe._

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary: **_They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called** Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

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><p>My name is Freddie Benson and I am eighteen. I live in a world covered in ashes, bones and remains from the ones we once knew and loved. It's hard to express what you feel when you watch the ones you care for being executed in front of you. There was no order, only chaos, and death. A long time ago hell broke loose, and there was nothing no one could do to stop it. All we could do was fight for salvation, and the aftermath wasn't pretty.<p>

It's true what they say, that war changes you, it does. In many ways, more than you can imagine. I've been through some tough times in my life, but nothing can be compared to watch someone die right in front of you. Whenever you kill someone, a little piece of your soul dies too. No matter who that person was, it kills you to kill anyone. I could go through every detail, and tell you the whole story, but there are some things my mind couldn't process yet. There are some things my brain pushed to the side, so I wouldn't have to deal with the pain.

So I'm going to make it easy on all of us, I'm going to simplify and give you as many details as I can. When World War III began, I was twelve. I used to watch it on the news, hiding under the dining room table so my parents wouldn't see me. They didn't want me to have any part of it, but that wasn't something they could control. Everything started down at the Middle East, then Africa, and soon hit the Europe. Before we knew, every capable man was being called for duty, whether you had military training or not. It wasn't something you could choose, or decide, the choice was made for you. I watched my father, a middle aged doctor, being dragged out of our house to serve his country. Or so they say.

Nine months later, he was dead. They shipped him back in a wooden coffin so we could bury him. He died from several gunshots from a Russian soldier. My life was never the same. When you think things can't get any worse, Seattle was being under attack, the military bases being bombed and several civilians murdered in the streets every day. We were running out of man, and the government feared not having enough soldiers to fight when the battle hit the catastrophic level. Next thing I know, a soldier knocked on our door, ordering my mother to serve as a nurse in the battle field, ordering me to pack my stuff so we could go.

But go where exactly, he didn't say. Something inside of me knew, that one night, was the last night I would ever see my mom, I just knew it. The soldier was an older man, maybe around his late thirties, just like my father, later I found out he was captain of division in Seattle. Apparently the arm was low on men, and they had to take whatever they could, no matter the age, no matter the experience or lack of therefore. The experiment started on China, they recruited and trained children over twelve years old and transformed them in combat dolls. The word got out and every other desperate army decided to try it out.

I was dragged out of my house right to a military base downtown, thrown into a cubic sized room and told to wait. I was scared, so scared I thought I was going to piss my pants. The first three hours were cold, and lonely. I lay on the top bunk bed and waited for my mother to come and get me. I waited uselessly for someone to come for me. No one did. The next morning, I was told to change into my new clothes and go outside to the patio. The place where I was going to be trained and prepared for battle. I was told I had a duty with my country, and it was time to serve.

It's true when they say people get used to everything in life. It's true, during the darkest of the times, you learn to live with what you can get, and for years on end, it's been like that for me. I was trained, prepared and molded to become whatever they wanted me to be. I watched several boys of my age, or older, crying and begging to go home. The military wasn't as tolerant as our school teachers, not even the worse ones, like Mr. Howard. I'm not trying to brag or anything, but to be fairly honest, I never cried. Not even the hardest tasks, not even during punishment, not ever. It was like every tear was drained right off me when I saw my mother for the last time.

Turned out that the soldier who picked me up was one of my fathers' "colleagues" or so. They served together, and he was there when my father was shot dead. Captain Sullivan, as well known as Gunsmoke. They weirdest of the men I've ever laid eyes on. Fact is, my father saved his life during an attack and he felt like he owned him, so he took me under his wing. Truth it made my life a lot easier.

I've been in training center for two years, I've learn more ways to kill a man that you could ever imagine. By the time I was fourteen I was thrown in action. Me and the other guys of my age were separated and placed in different unities, mixed with the older soldiers. We were as experienced as we would ever be, and ready for anything. After two years, I've watched many kids turned into killing machines, monsters, godless souls. But Gunsmoke never let me become one of them, and because of him I still understood what humanity was. And because of him I praise myself for being able to save a few souls. My roommate, Brad, who came right from Chicago, ripped off his grandma's arms and thrown into a military base at the age of thirteen. And this other kid from my old school, Pete. In two years we became real soldiers, but not one day that went by I let them forget what it feels like to be a human.

My first time in battle was scary as hell. You spend two years learning, so you think you're ready, but when hell breaks loose, and all you have is training field experience, the shit hits you hard. Then you realize that no matter what you do, you'll still be a rookie, you're not prepared. Everything goes into fast mode, and goes by so fast, you have to clutch tightly on your gun so you don't drop it, because your hands are shaking and you don't trust your own fingers. The gunshots almost make you deaf, but you have to concentrate on the enemy, otherwise you'll just shoot one of your companions, that's called friendly fire, and trust me, you cannot live with the guilty of killing your own.

Everything happens really fast, when you're thrown in battle, there's not much time to think about strategy and actions; you have to go with your gut and whatever the hell you learned before. But there's two moments when everything slows down, and of course, they are tragic. Whenever you see one of your own being killed, right in front of your eyes, everything stops, everything dies down a little, and all you can hear is muffed, and all you can see is fogged.

The first person I ever saw, dying in front of me was my good friend Pete. The kids should never have been thrown in the field, but there was no choice. He died right in front of me. Four bullets that came from a Chinese boy of our own age. That was the first time I saw someone die, on my first day, but also it was the first time I've ever killed someone. I swear to God my soul died a little bit that day. Everything happened really fast, Pete was hit and fell, next thing I know I was shooting at the boy who killed him, and soon his lifeless body was hitting the ground as well. I've killed much more people after that, but that one first kill, never goes away. It never leaves you. His wide, lifeless eyes, will haunt me everywhere I go, whenever, it's going to be there, forever.

After it all, we were left with ashes and remains, almost seven years later and all we were left with was the rest of everything we knew. Africa was no longer a continent, but a bombed piece of land, covered in carcass to feed the crow. China stood as they could, trying to pick up the pieces, and the whole Europe was destroyed. South American drowned, and North America was nothing but ashes. There was when the government prepared itself for the big final. They made a deal of peace with China, the last one standing, and agreed on helping each other rebuilt, but they had other plans. The army gathered the rest of their bombs, a hidden stash they've been keeping since the day war started, and bombed the unarmed and innocent people of China, killing them all. In the end, the few of us left, were placed on a new land, in order to reconstruct what was left.

After that came starvation, illness, misery. That was when Visualize came into the picture. They were an organization that came from only God knows where, but they helped keep things in order. So in order, our lives began to be controlled by it, like we couldn't think or do anything for ourselves. By then I was already used to, and it wasn't like I could complain, since I was thrown in a nice apartment and forced to go to weekly therapy sessions. I was too busy trying to pick myself up from the ashes.

Brad and I kept in touch, as much as we could. He turned out better than me, but his battles scars weren't as deep as mine were. I saved his ass a bunch of times, and I'm not saying he is a wuss, but I had to keep things from him, things that could scar him forever. I kept them to myself, the worst of it all so he would have a chance, because that's what you do for a friend. Brad joined Visualize, to try to build a better future, he truly believes in what they do, but then again Brad was the religious one, not me. God bailed on me a long time ago, and I don't think he'll come back any time soon.

Visualize created a new kind of dictatorship, they were no better than the military, except they weren't killing anyone, yet. But I guess that when you've seen what I've seen, nothing much can shock you or bother you. They were very focused on building a new society, a new world, that was their goal. It didn't bother me at all, until I had to be thrown into their messed up world. They started to take charge of everyone's life, telling us it was a way to guarantee war would never happen again, and that we would be safe and sound. When you take a bunch of traumatized people and tell them exactly what they want to hear so desperately, they don't fight, they agree with you in hop you can make their lives better.

Everything was good for a few months, as we build ourselves from the ashes, we were doing moderately fine, but then Visualize took a step further. They wanted everyone to start new lives, lives they could control. It started with who should do what, they chose, based on a psychological evaluation, your profession. They told you who you would be in life, what you would do and where you would live. I've always been great with building stuff and technology that was kind of my thing, so they gave me this job as a civil engineering at this company that built houses for the whole city. I was fine with that, my life was as fine as you can get after everything that happened. I had a place to live, food, a job that could keep me occupied, and my good old therapist every Friday afternoon.

But Visualize had other plans, they wanted to start producing new people, basically they wanted the survivors to reproduce and start families soon so they could fill their new world, with new people. Brad came to me one day and told me he was going to get married. I should've been happy for him, if it wasn't for the fact he didn't know his bride. Visualize had a record of all the survivors, they used those records to analyze who was a better match for who, then they could marry those people. The idea wasn't well received at first, but rebelling against it didn't take us anywhere, I basically just didn't care at all. Little by little, people accepted the idea, because they couldn't fight it, and they were tired, so they gave in.

Starting at the ages of sixteen, we were good to go. Those who were already married before the law was concealed, could remain with their partners, but only if the marriage was legalized. Brad was paired up with this girl from California, a seventeen years old Carly Shay. Her family died in the war and she was left in a nunnery on the underground of Boston. Apparently she liked to read, knit and bake cookies. The girl didn't even put up a fight, they shipped her from the part of the land she was and they got married. Everything simple, and very raw. They settled the new couple in a just built townhouse, one of those I helped to build, and gave young Carly the job of a housewife. The girl was sweet, you could tell she was a good person considering what she went through, and Brad truly believed they could make it work so I never said a word.

I was pretty oblivious to their kind of life, the one they were trying to impose on everyone, until the shit hit my side. I never planned to get married, not that I don't like women, which I do, but you see after all I've been through, a family was the last thing I wanted. Too bad I couldn't get it my way. They told me I was a young healthy male, and I needed to reproduce, help build a better world. I've fought in many battles for many years, but this one was the only one I knew I couldn't win. I tried to claim I wasn't mentally healthy to have a family, but they didn't bite it. I had to get married.

Now I stand, side by side with the only friend I have left, Brad and his wife Carly, waiting for my bride to arrive. The judge is already there, waiting to marry me to a total stranger, and three guards on the door keeping an eye on me, just for good measure. I was told my bride to be is originally from Texas, where she and her sister remained hidden from the war for three years, until they bombed the place and the soldiers found them. After that they were shipped to this underground base where they kept the younger children, older women, and girls who couldn't serve as nurses. Now she was coming here, to marry me, a guy she never met. As sorry as I was for myself, I was for her.

"You'll see, she'll be lovely. Just like my Carly." Says Brad, kissing his wife's forehead.

For a moment, Carly smiles and I can truly believe she is somewhat happy.

"What did you say her name was again?" I ask him, because I truly don't know, but I should care. There's no way of out it.

"Samara… Samira…"

"Samantha." Carly finishes. Brad has memory problems, courtesy of the war. "Samantha Puckett, that's her name Freddie."

"Sure." I say, uninterested. "Samantha."

Just because this is something I can't stop, doesn't mean I have to like it, which I don't. But it also doesn't mean I have to make life worse for this girl, or myself. We're stuck with each other forever, and we don't even know each other. That's right, divorces are not allowed. I didn't have much time to read the marriage book of laws, but this much I know, we are chained to each other forever. The guards announce the bride is ready, and I take a sharp breath. This person will be my wife, my forever, the mother of my children, and I don't even know her middle name.

She walks in, gingerly, dressed in a simple white dress, ending above her knees. She's not holding any flowers, that's optional, instead she's clutching on her skirt tightly. Her shoes are new, white baby doll shoes and her hair was half up and half down. She was petit and curvy, a massive amount of blond curls cascading down her shoulder, and dark blue eyes. She was beautiful, but something about the look on her face told me she wasn't half as pleased to be here as I was. Too bad, because we're both on the same boat, whether we want it or not.

Brad squeezed my shoulder when she approached, finally face to face with me, but her eyes were locked on the floor tiles, like they were the only thing safe to look at. That made my stomach clutch in sadness. I wanted to put my finger under her chin and lift her face so she could look me in the eyes and see I wasn't going to hurt her. She didn't have to be afraid with me. I wanted to say hi, or just say anything, but the minister started, not giving me any room to speak to my bride. Funny, huh? Brad clutched on my shoulder, telling me to look forward, so I did.

"We're gathered here today…" The minister starts, branding me, chaining me to this girl I don't even know, forever.

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><p><em>AN: So, this is my first fic. My friend S. Benson introduced me to this world and I loved it. So yeah, this is my first shot, and it might be a little weird, but I wanted to try something different. Don't be mean with the grammar erros, I really don't know what I'm doing. Thank you guys, if you like it, let me know._

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><p><em>REM - Hollow Man<em>


	2. Ways And Means

**Genre:** _Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary: **_They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

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><p>A few words spoken and I'm a married man. I've never pictured what my wedding day would be like, I'm not a girl, but if I had it wouldn't be this way. The girl, Samantha, kept looking at the floor the whole time, like the goddamn marble is the most fascinating thing in the world. I understand though, I'm a stranger, everyone here is a stranger to her, she feels cornered, forced to spend the rest of her life chained to some stranger guy covered in battle scars.<p>

The judge tells me to sign a paper, then her, then Brad and Carly. Now we're formally married. And all I can think about are my parents. How much they loved each other, how my dad proposed to my mother on her birthday, under the moonlight. How they got married on the church my mother was baptized, and how five years later I was born. Anyone who saw them together could see the love, how much they cared for each other. You could see it in the way they looked at each other, and I always felt safe around so much love. One day if I had a wife, I wished at least I could have with her what my parents did, but I can't. I won't be able to.

I don't want to make life harder for the poor girl, I really don't. But how can you be able to love a stranger that was forced to you under these circumstances? I won't blame her if she never loves me either, I won't blame her if she doesn't want me. This is already hard enough. Brad pats me on the back and the judge tells me to kiss my bride. I feel terribly uncomfortable, so I look at her, as if asking for permission. She takes a deep breath and hangs her head upright, chin pointing forward. I've met many people in my lifetime, bad people, good people, sad people, proud people… And I definitely can tell, this girl is strong and proud, she's not the type to accept pity or help from anyone. I can tell she went through some tough times, and still she stands. I admire her for it. She looks at me with a challenging look on her face that says _just do it and get this over with, _but that's not what I want. Heck nothing of this is anywhere near of what I want.

My hands are shaking a little, but I bring them to her and cup her face. This is the first time she's looking back at me, in the eyes, and I can see how pretty she really is. I had my fare share of whores in this life, and regular women too, but none of them could be compared to this girl. She's by far, the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. If we were under other circumstances, I probably would fall in love with her, or at least have a hot one night stand with her. Her cheeks and ears are red with embarrassment, and her eyes look at me with hidden fear. I can tell she's hiding behind her false strength, but at least she's not crying like I've seen many girls do before in their weddings.

I don't want to start my life by scaring my wife to shit, or forcing her into something she's clearly not into, but I also have to put up a show for the judge and the guards on the door. So I start with something simple, I press my lips softly against her forehead. Her skin is soft, it feels like a rose petal. She's all creamy white and baby pink in the right spots, and as I man I find her completely desirable. This is not a problem since she's my wife, tonight is our honey moon, and I get to see her completely. But deep down inside I know I won't. I won't be able to, because that would be almost like raping her, and even for a trained killer like me, that's too much.

I remove my hands and lips from her, and watch as she gives me a confused look. She looks a little like a cornered wildcat I once saw in the woods. Feral and strong, but scared and trapped.

"Now you can go." The judge releases us, because there's nothing to do here anyway.

"Nice to meet you Samantha, I'm Bradley and this is my wife Carly." Brad offers his hand, and she stars at it for a second, deciding whether or not she should accept it.

Carly gives me a sympathetic look, and rushes forward to grab her hand and shake.

"You're going to be okay here, Samantha. We live right next door to you, anything you need you can come and ask me, I'm home all day."

Samantha nods, still looking at Carly with a scowl. I know she's just trying to protect herself, walking on egg shells. I realize I haven't spoken to her yet, and as soon as we're outside, heading for the car, I push myself to say something, anything to make this situation less awkward.

"So…? You're from Texas?" I start lamely, because I don't know what else to say.

She nods again, clearly letting me know the conversation is not welcomed. I sigh and open the car door for her. These cars, the ones left, were modified to be more resistant, like everything else left, it had to be better and stronger in order to survive. The ride to our new home is tense. You can taste the tension like a cloud of smoke in the air. Brad and Carly are probably already home, but I drive slowly, so she can see the streets.

"There are many things we're still building, and there's going to be a long way before we can be properly called a town again, but yeah… we're getting there."

Samantha nods one more time, and presses her head against the glass. We arrive at home and I park the car on my new garage. I've helped build this house, like many others, I made it stand, and now I get to live here. It's a good house, it's the same for everyone, the same shapes, blueprint and design, even the same colors. Everything is the same. I open the front door for her, she doesn't have any bags because they're not allowed to bring their own clothes. Visualize has a closet prepared with the clothes we're supposed to wear.

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><p>The minute I walk into the room, I miss my apartment. Small, plain and simple, for one person only, comfortable enough for me. This house is too big, my screams are going to echo everywhere. The furniture is simple, the same for everyone, and we don't have a TV, but then again, there's nothing to watch anymore. There's nothing to do around here, no books, no music, not TV. Nothing. Visualize organizes some boring ass lectures every week, fairs and even events to keep people from dying of boredom.<p>

"Uh, the kitchen is over there." I point. "Down here we have the dining room, the kitchen, a bathroom and the living room. See that door?" I show her the door leading to outside. "There's a porch and a backyard. The grass is not all grown yet, and the flowers will take some time too, but you can stay outside and watch the sunset in the afternoons."

"You live here?" Those are the first words she even spoken to me. Her voice is like a soft whisper, almost involuntary like she was beaten by curiosity.

"No. But I've been to Brad's house. They're all the same. And I've built this one."

"Oh… You built?"

"Yeah, that's my job, I'm an engineering."

There's a gap of silence between us, until I remember what I was doing previously.

"So… upstairs we have the master suite, and two other bedrooms and a bathroom."

"Oh…"

It's already dark outside, and I know what must be on her mind. It's on mine too.

"Are you hungry?" I ask.

She nods.

"Well…" I point to the kitchen, inviting her to come with me. She follows me there gingerly. "All I can cook is mac and cheese."

"I can cook." She clears her throat. "No problem. I know how to cook."

"Alright…" I open the cabinet. "There's enough food here…"

"What do you like to eat?"

I turn around and she's already putting the apron.

"Mac and cheese?"

"And besides that?" She talks to me, but doesn't look me in the eye.

"Anything, basically. When you're in war you just get used to everything. I'll eat anything you can cook."

I didn't mean to bring the war issue now, but it's involuntary. Sometimes I let things slip because I don't pay attention to what I'm saying anymore.

"You've been in the war…"

I can hear the fear mixed with the sadness in her voice, but I can see her face because her back is turned to me. She's looking inside the fridge for something to cook.

"Yeah. A long time ago. But uh… what can you cook?"

I try to bring back the lighter subject. I know it's better for the both of us.

"Anything." She searches a little more. "Do you like stake?"

"Sure."

I grab one of the chairs and sit with my elbows on the table. Sometimes when I do this I remember my mother, telling me to sit properly, but I never correct myself. I feel like I should though, at least be polite in front of my wife, so I retrieve my elbows and sit upright, hands on my lap.

"Okay, I'll make stake, salad and green beans. You're okay salad right?"

"Yeah. There's only three things I'm allergic to…"

I feel like it's important to mention this. Share some information of my life, and then maybe she'll share some of hers.

"Lobster, peanut and kiwi."

"Noted."

I didn't quite accomplished what I meant, she' not up for conversation.

She's starting on the stake and I feel bad about sitting around doing nothing. I don't wanna be one of those guys that just sit around waits for his wife to do anything. She's not my maid and I'm aware of that. Maybe I should chop something, I'm not completely useless in the kitchen.

"I can work on the salad if you want. I know how to chop things." I inform her.

"Sure… uh… okay, if you want."

I can tell she's trying to be polite, and not really showing the anger she's feeling and the discomfort. I'm feeling it too, I know it's hard. I don't say anything else, it won't do any good. I start on the salad while she does the rest and half an hour later we're sitting on the each side of the table, eating silently. It's extremely awkward and tense, all I can hear is the sound of our mouths chewing, the crickets outside and the sound of the water running down our throats.

"I can wash the dishes if you want." I tell her, collecting my plate and cup from the table.

"No need." She yanks them off my hands and dips them on the sink.

"Really, there's no big deal." I push her softly to the side. "You must be tired from the trip, I don't mind."

Samantha gives me this suspicious look, but nods and walks away. She looks at me like she's trying to find a hidden agenda behind everything I do. I don't blame her, I'm a bit paranoid myself. I have the tendency to look at people from the corner of my eye, and expect them to attack me. It's a war thing I guess, like every time I hear a pop, I think it's a gunshot and my hand goes immediately to my waist, searching for my gun. The gun I can no longer carry.

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><p>After I'm done with the dishes I force myself to go upstairs. I need my clothes and a shower. She must be on the bedroom, and I feel self conscious about walking in there. I'm right, she's sitting on the bed, her back to me. Her hair is hanging loose and I can tell she's wearing a silk robe. I don't even want to imagine what's underneath that. The door creaks a bit, and she's startled, looking above her shoulder, at me.<p>

"I just need… clothes and a shower." I start to look for the pajamas they picked for me.

"You can use the shower. I'm done."

"Okay."

I dragged myself to the shower and locked the door. Not because I was afraid she would come in or anything, that was just something I do a lot. I just lock every door behind me, it's an instinct or something. I had to control myself not to lock the bedroom door, because that might've freaked her out. I folded my clothes before placing them over the next shelf I could find. I removed my shoes and put them on the corner next to the door, my socks inside. I have the feeling I will always be the neat freak my mother turned me into, even in the war when we were camping, I left my things organized and folded.

The cold water of the shower hits my back, and I pressed a palm against the shower tile, using my free hand to squeeze the bridge of my nose. There's this other thing about me, I always take cold showers, no matter the weather, I don't think I can feel cold anymore than I already do. I let the water hit my back, and I try to erase the day off my mind, but I know as soon as I open this bathroom door I'll have the living proof waiting for me outside. She is the living proof of what I can't run away from. She's the thing that reminds me that's no way out of this.

I grab my folded clothes and dip them on the basket in the corner of the room. I silently dress myself in the plaid pajama pants and white shirt someone from Visualize chose for me. I brush my teeth and dry my hair, never looking in the mirror. I can't look in the mirror anymore, not with so many scars that remind me of who I was, and who I'll forever be. My wife is waiting outside for me, on our bedroom, on our bed. And I know, somehow, I won't be able to sleep in that bed with her. Some nights I woke up seeking comfort from the human warmth, but this girl is so scared of me I couldn't put her through this. She wants to look confident and strong, ready for anything but I know deep down inside she's just scared.

* * *

><p>When I open the door I see her, lying on the bad, her head properly resting against the pillow, her blond lock surrounding her face lovingly. I guess I already established she's attractive and as I man I can see myself desiring this girl, but as a person I cannot put her through any more suffering. Isn't easy for me too, share a bed with a total stranger, especially when I have so many intimacy problems. I'm afraid to even sleep next to her, because I toss and turn a lot, I scream when the nightmares find me and I tend to get violent some times. I don't want put her through this, I don't put myself through the embarrassment of letting anyone see me like that.<p>

I walk to the bed and I can see her gulping. She nervously looks around, anywhere but at me, and still I can sense she's very aware of my every movement. I sit on the bed and rub my face with both hands.

"So? When do you want to start it?" She asks, her voice is like an angry whisper. "Should I remove my clothing or you would like to do it yourself?"

I turn around to meet her eyes, but she looks away, down at her hands.

"Samantha…"

"Sam." She interrupts me. "You can call me Sam, no one calls me Samantha. It's okay, you know, or whatever."

Her voice comes out a little sharp, like an accusation. She's trying to tell me she doesn't care, that I can't affect her, that I can't scare her. That's she's ready for everything, when the truth is so easy to see.

"Sam is good. I like it."

"Great, so now what? You want me to take it off?"

She sits up and starts to remove her robe. It's so awkward between us, it's heavy and tense. The atmosphere is clouded and I don't like it, it's starting to make me angry. Usually I try not to get angry because it leads to bad things, and I had my fair share of bad things in this life. But the way she's talking to me, and not looking at makes me angry. It's like I'm forcing her to be here, like somehow this is my fault, when clearly I'm as innocent as she is. I don't know what happened to her before she got here, but I know it made her bitter and I don't like bitterness.

"Listen…" I count to ten, trying to get myself together. "We don't have to do anything."

"You don't… like women?" She crosses her arms over her chest.

I turn my back to her, breathing in and out and counting to ten. I know she's just angry and scared because of the situation we're put in, I now she's not trying to attack me, she's just trying to protect herself. But I don't know why she's trying to make me angry. Whatever the hell her motives are, I'm not falling for it.

"It's not it."

"Then what?"

"I'm not going to do anything you don't want." I turn around again because she didn't say anything. "This doesn't have to be worse than already is. I'm not going to make your life harder, okay?

Sam stares at me for a second. Giving me time to realize the name Sam suits her better than Samantha. Sam is strong, just like her. I like Sam.

"Why? I'm strong, I can handle whatever you've got." She seems confident.

"That's not about what you can or cannot handle. We're going to be married for a long time and I don't it to be under these weird circumstances. I don't want to do something you're not into. It's wrong."

"I don't mind." She says sharply, trying to prove me I can't hurt her, I can't affect her, I can't scare her.

"I mind. It would be like forcing you into something, having my way with you, and that's not what I want."

"Isn't what you people did in the war?" Now I can tell she's angry, but scared.

The question startles me. I don't know what happened to her before she came here, but I know it wasn't good. I don't want to give her something else to feel bad about. There's something beneath her skin, something I can't quite figure out.

"No. That was not what I did. I've killed many men in my lifetime, yes, but I would never do that. It's too low, even for a killer like me."

I shouldn't be mad at her, and maybe I'm not, maybe I'm just mad at myself or whoever made her think like that. I just grab my pillow and get up.

"Where are you going?" She asks.

"I'll be in the couch," I try to sound as nonchalant as I can, "goodnight Sam."

I chose the couch because for some reason I don't want to use any of the spare rooms. They supposed to be for our future children. Each couple can have at least two of them, after that the man is forced to do vasectomy and the women do whatever they have to do to stop having kids. It doesn't feel right sleeping in those rooms, the rooms for the kids I don't even want. I throw my pillow in the couch, and realize I brought nothing to cover myself with, but that's okay because I don't feel cold. At all.

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><p><em>AN: hey guys, thanks for reading and reviewing. I hope the writing isn't too sloppy, I'm not a writer and I have no idea of what I'm doing. This is just really fun!_

_**ClashingColorsChasingRaibows** - Thanks. The first chapter was solely to let people know what their world was. To understand how these characters got into this situation you had to know what happened. Now that I've made that clear the rest of the fic will be about the characters relationships and how it develops._

_**SAM-seddie-FREDDIE** - OMG, stop it you! S. said you had the tendency to make her giggle with your reviews, now I see why. -blushing-_

_**Daisy215** - Alright, got it! I just didn't want anyone to be confused about anything. I thought that if I explained what was going on, maybe they would understand better why these characters are going through these situations you know. But that was only the first chapter. This fic is about the relationship of Sam and Freddie under those circumstances._

_**jamiewalsh, pos and shannaROCKS** - Thanks you guys! Omg, that's so nice of you!_

_**jessicalove24** - Yeah I know, that was in iSeddie, one of my best friends happen to be the writer of that story, and I kind of liked she had this plot. I thought I could put Gunsoke in the story, just in a different way._

_**S. Benson** - You... you, you, you! I took your advice and posted it. I hope you're right about this being a good idea. So far it's fun, but we'll see! Love you!_

_If i got anyone's names wrong, please tell me! That's it, i'm gone!_

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><p><em>Snow Patrol - Ways And Means<em>


	3. Don't Panic

**Genre:** _Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary: **_They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast.**_

* * *

><p>I didn't understand why he refused to do what he was supposed to. It's not like I was objecting, I did everything I was told, I cooked, I behaved and I offered my body to him without complaining. Still, he refused to touch me at all. At first, I thought it was because he didn't like women, but he doesn't seem the type of guy who goes the other way around. I know he's been at the war, maybe he can't… but if he couldn't Visualize wouldn't let him get married. They would say he wasn't fit to be a husband. So what's wrong with him? Why doesn't he just do it to get it over with?<p>

I'm not objecting, I know that now there's no way out of this, so why delay the suffering? I know the consequences, I know how I should behave, I've seen it before and I'm too determinate to survive, under any consequences. However, I did something she told me not to do, I've made him angry, but instead of punishing me like others would, he just flew out of the room. I don't understand this kind of treatment.

Now I'm alone in a strange room, and I feel cold. I would've miss home, except I have no home. The war took that away from me a long time ago. She told me to get used to it, to behave, to not make him upset, and I really don't want to. But I can't control my temper, I can't help the fact that I hate the state I'm in. I can't help to be angry that I was forced into someone like that. I'm in a new place, with strange people, I was dragged away from everything and everyone I know, and I can't just overlook that. Even when I keep telling myself it's not his fault, that he didn't choose me, I still can't help but feel disgusted. Not by him, he's been more patient with me that everyone else ever was, but I feel disgusted with this society, this way of living, and that people who control us.

I can't fight it, no one can. The ones, who even tried, didn't live to tell the tale, and I wanna live. I'm a survivor.

He grabbed his pillow and went downstairs a long time ago. I can tell it's around three in the morning, but I couldn't sleep. Usually I'm good to fall asleep anywhere anytime, but this house, this place is too unfamiliar and I feel self conscious all the time. It's like, if I fall asleep he'll come crawling back into the bedroom and hurt me. Usually I wouldn't be afraid of that, I can handle this kind of situation, I'm a fighter, but somehow, in this place I feel unprotected. He's a big man, tall and strong, but I know I can take him down if necessary.

_Don't fight it, this will only make it worse. It'll make him angrier. Just give in, because there's nothing you can do._

I hear her voice in my head all the time since I got here. When I walked into that room, where I was supposed to be married to this stranger, her voice was with me, telling not to fight it. I don't want to follow her advice because I don't want to be a coward, but at the same time I know it's all she could've said. She's not strong like me, she never fought back. The bed is big, there's enough room for me and a big man like my husband. I wonder if I'll have to share with him, and when.

I tried not to think about him as the night went by. But my mind was too agitated to sleep, I was thinking too much, wondering too much, remembering too much. I rubbed my face with my hands, tossed and turned in my bed just to end up staring at the ceiling. If I could talk to her, I already know what she was going to say, or ask.

_How does he look like?_

Well, he is somewhat handsome… I can try to deny it but the facts are clear, he is attractive. And he smells good. I could feel it when he kissed me earlier.

_Tell me more!_

He's tall, brunette and has brown eyes. I only looked him in the eye once, but I could tell they are beautiful. He's strongly built, stocky, and his arms are bigger than my head. He should seem menacing, but there's something soft about him, something that I can't be scared of.

_At least you got a nice one._

So far, so good. We can't judge the book by the cover. He can turn out to be a maniac.

_Is he a soldier?_

He was in the war, this much I know and he said he killed people. Yet he refuses to touch me, or force himself at me even if I don't care.

_He seems noble._

He's was nice enough, but words don't shake me.

_Oh Sammy, you're so paranoid._

My thoughts are interrupted by a loud scream. I jump off the bed and yank the lamp out of the bedside table. I'm prepared for this kind of situations, I'm not scared. There's another cry, and a crash followed by a bang. I wonder where my husband is, and if he's the one making the noises. I climb down the stairs quietly, there's no one in my sight. The cries get louder and louder once I reach the living room. I walk around the corner and encircle the couch, my hands are trembling and sweaty.

I can see him once I'm in front of the couch, he tosses and turns, screams and cries. He's having a nightmare. Maybe remembering things from the war, I don't know.

"What am I supposed to do?" I whisper.

He clutches on the side of the couch with one hand, and puts an arm over his face, sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. There's a small lamp on the floor, along with the little table that was supposed to be beside the couch. I guess he kicked in his sleep. I can't understand what he's saying, the words are mixed and they don't make any sense. He's muttering something, and sometimes he says _no_, repeatedly, and his face is contorted in pain. He looks like he's suffering and I feel bad for him. Maybe I should wake him up. I put the lamp over the coffee table and try to shake him, once, twice, but he seems stuck in some sort of trance.

"Freddie? Freddie, wake up!"

I remember that his name is Fredward, but his friends only called him Freddie, maybe this is how he'll respond to.

"Freddie! Wake up, Freddie!"

I shake him harder, and his eyes pop open. He looks around, startled, then at me. Now I see something in his eyes, something that wasn't there before. Something not so soft and understanding. I get up, move back to grab the lamp again, and he sits up. His eyes are darker than the usual, I can tell even in the middle of the night. He breathes hard and I clutch at the lamp, prepared for anything. If I'm going down, I'm going down fighting.

He looks at me again, but he doesn't move, suddenly it's like something came to him, a realization or whatnot. His eyes are once again soft brown.

"Sam?"

His voice is weak, barely a whisper.

"Yes…?"

"I need you to do something for me."

He talks slowly, as if he wants to make sure I understand.

"What?" I clutch the lamp tighter.

"Go upstairs, lock the door and no matter what you hear, don't open it, okay?"

He looks like he's fighting a battle inside his head, which has nothing to do with me.

"Why?"

"Just do it!" He growls, then takes another deep breath. "I'm sorry, please just go… you have to go… now!"

I do as he says, I run upstairs as fast as I can, locking the door behind me. I wait in silence, my back against the door. My ears catch the sound of wood knocking against the wall aggressively, so I drop to my knees and press my back against the door. But the sounds are coming from downstairs and in my panic attack I don't realize it. Then, I hear the screams, yells and cries coming from outside. I go to the little balcony in the bedroom, I hide behind the white curtains and look down.

Freddie is on his knees on the dirty floor, he has his hands in his hair and he's clutching it hard. The noises he's making are so loud, and pain filled, I feel bad for him, I wish I could do something. It's not like me to help people, especially strangers, but for some reason I want to help him, I don't want him to suffer like that. I guess the noises were loud enough to wake up our neighbors, because I can see an oddly familiar blond guy walking into our backyard. My first instincts are scream to Freddie there is someone behind him, but the guy drops to his knees and wraps his arms around Freddie.

I guess that's his friend from the wedding, Bradley or something. Bradley starts to say something to Freddie, but his voice is low and I can't hear. He seems calmer now, he nods and says something back to Bradley, who nods in agreement and helps Freddie get on his feet. On our backyard, there's a small house, made of wood, probably a workshop, since Freddie builds houses. They walk in together, but Bradley comes out alone, carrying a bag of tools, then he locks the door behind him and leaves.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Should I go there? Does he need my help? Did he purposely lock himself there? I remember Freddie telling me that no matter what I heard, I shouldn't open the door. My brain wants to question it, it wants to argue, claiming he said _no matter what I've heard, not what I've seen. _But I don't go there, not because I'm scared, but because he asked me to leave him alone and I should respect that. The day will come when I'll need to be left alone, and I'll want him to respect that.

* * *

><p>My back hurts from sleeping against the door. I realize I still have the lamp on my hands. I must've fallen asleep guarding the door, my survivor instincts kicked in somewhere during the night. My body is exhausted, but I force myself to stand up and put the lamp back on its place. I can hear the cars outside, the people on the streets, but I can't hear Freddie. I don't know if he is awake, or where he is. Then I remember, he is locked outside and he can't get out.<p>

The water is cold in the shower, and I guess that's because Freddie must've changed it when he showered. I wonder who the hell showers with cold water in the winter. The way it hits your back, it hurts like a thousand little knives cutting through your skin. I imagine the pain he must be in, I wonder if he's hurt in that cubicle, I wonder if he is okay. After my shower I choose one of the ugly dresses in the closet. We don't get to choose our spouses, we don't get to choose our jobs, and we don't get to choose our lives, but what I'm really pissed at is the fact that we don't get to choose our clothes. I don't like dresses, they don't fit me, they irritate me, they make me feel self conscious about my body.

I've never been the girly type of girl, it isn't me. So dresses weren't in my wardrobe before I came here. I rub my face, once, twice, three times. I don't like to remember that I was taken away from everything I knew and thrown in this weird place. My bitterness pushed to the side, I continue to dress up and go downstairs. I walk silently, almost carefully, as I can hear the sounds coming from the kitchen. My eyes are looking for anything I can use as a weapon; I'm too used to this instinct of survivor to let it go.

The thumping of my heart throbs in my ear, my breath is rapid, almost frantic. I go to the living room and find an umbrella on the closet, then I go back into the kitchen, where the sounds are coming from. I can smell coffee and bacon, my favorite thing on earth. I haven't eaten bacon since I was twelve, when the war began. The smell truly brings me back to home, before hell broke loose, before I lost everything.

Focusing on my task, I push my feelings to the side and walk into the kitchen. I see a man, tall and strong, his back turned to me. I'm prepared to hit him in the head, when I recognize the faint scent coming from him. It's like sugar, maybe chamomile, I don't know. I put my umbrella down just before he turns around and sees me.

"Good morning, Sam."

Freddie is holding a pan with bacon and I try not to drool. How the hell he is up and out of that place, it's beyond me. But he looks so different from what I've seen last night. First of all, he doesn't look distressed or disturbed, his eyes are back to the normal color, but he has bags under his eyes, telling me he didn't get much sleep. He seems exhausted, but still he smiles and I find that endearing. This is the first time I realize he has dimples on his cheeks, they are very small and you can't see it from a far distance because they mingle with his cheek bone mark. His face is not so bad, I guess.

"How…? Are you… okay?" I stammer.

"Yeah. Brad came and let me out this morning. I guess you saw me by the window, right?"

"I know you told me not to, but I couldn't help it."

"It's okay. Listen, why don't you sit down and eat some of the food I've made?"

"I thought you didn't know how to cook anything other than mac and cheese."

"Oh, yeah well I guess I forgot to mention I know how to make breakfast. Eggs and bacon are not so difficult to fry."

He realizes I'm staring at the pan, because he moves it to the sides, and my eyes follow it every time.

"I guess you like bacon."

He states and I can't if he's smirking, because my eyes are glued at the pan, but I can hear a little bit of laugh in his voice.

"I haven't eaten it since I was a little girl."

I didn't mean to share background information with him, it just slipped out.

"Well, now you can have as many slices as you want. Here, let me put it on a plate for you."

I don't object when he dips the bacon on a plate, that also contains eggs and pancakes. I can smell the coffee too, and lord knows I really need it. I take a seat across from Freddie and try not to stare at him too much. I'm still curious about what happened last night, I wonder if he's going to talk about it or just let it go.

"You know, I'm really sorry you got to see me like that yesterday. It doesn't happen very often, only when I'm stressed."

He seems embarrassed by what happened, and suddenly I want to tell him I've seen worse. Maybe I was the reason he got stressed out in the first place. Maybe if I kept my damn mouth shut, he wouldn't have that attack.

"It's a war thing, but I usually don't get as violent as I was yesterday. I'm sorry, Sam, I really am. And I need you to know, that even during my worse attacks, I won't hurt you. I usually just try to rip my hair out and break things, I don't hurt other people."

I nod, there's nothing I can say. Sure, I felt a little scared to see him like that, and I was almost sure he was going to hurt me, or maybe try, but he didn't. He was able to control himself long enough to just tell me to get the hell out of there, and for some reason, I can't be scared of that.

"It's alright, you know." I finally say something. "I wasn't scared of you as much as I've been all my life."

There, again. I did it again. I let it slip, things I shouldn't be talking about, I shouldn't be telling anyone. He stares at me for a while, chewing on his pancake, and I can tell he's trying to find the right thing to say. And here I was, thinking he was way more articulated than me. Maybe we're both just very socially awkward.

"You don't have to be afraid of me."

"I don't."

I'm a bit insulted that he would think I would be afraid of anything, but at the same time I feel relieved by his words. Then I remember; _words don't impress me._

"I just wanted to let you know. What happened yesterday, will maybe happen again, and every time I need to you to lock yourself in the room and not go outside for anything. You heard me?"

"I don't think you can hurt me. Even like that."

I want to show him I'm not afraid, that I'm strong and I can take a hit.

"Sam…" He takes a deep breath through his nose. "I know you're strong and all, but I just need you to promise me you won't go anywhere near me when that happens again. Just promise me?"

"Okay." I nod. "Does it happen very often?"

"No. It only happened twice before, and I don't think is going to happen for a long time now. I'm just asking you this to make sure."

Freddie gets up and takes his dishes to the sink to wash them.

"I can do it." I offer. "You did it yesterday, it's only fair."

He looks at me and I know he won't argue.

"Okay. I've got to go to work anyway." He wipes his hands and walks out of the kitchen, but then he returns a couple of seconds later.

"I almost forgot, you have to go downtown today, so they can tell you what your job is going to be."

Freddie hands me a piece of paper with an address.

"Oh and… if anybody asks, you should tell them we… uh… we consummated the union."

"Oh… alright… I'll tell them that." I can feel my cheeks hot and my ears turning red.

"Alright… have a nice day."

He grabs his jacket and leaves the house. Several seconds later I can hear the car starting, then I know his gone.

I try not to think about how weirdly this marriage started; instead I keep replaying his words on my head. _You don't have to be afraid of me. _Words don't impress me, but somehow I _believe _him. I really hope this is true.

* * *

><p><em>AN: OMG I never expected this much feedback! You guys are awesome! I just wanted to clarify a few things first. Well, for starters, they're in 2012, just in a different reality. Because the world was practically destroyed it might take some time to get all the technology they had back, for that it might seem they're in the 1800's but they're not. We'll learn more about Sam as the story proceeds, and what happened to her. I plan to make this two chapters of Sam's POV, two chapters of Freddie's POV and so it goes. I might change my mind, but for now it will be like that. So, next chapter will be Sam's POV, and the one after that will be Freddie's. About the grammar errors you might find, I'm sorry to say they're inevitable for me, I can't just find them all and correct them. But if you can look pass that because I'm a rookie and give me a chance that would be so awesome!_

_Every chapter is the name of a song, so is the title of this fic. Who can guess what song and who sings it? You'll get a virtual bear hug!_

_**adore202** - No, I never even heard of it. Who's the author? Maybe I can start reading now!_

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><p><em>Coldplay - Don't Panic<em>


	4. All The Right Moves

**Genre:** _Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary: **_They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired by, this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast.**_

* * *

><p>After breakfast I go to Carly's house. I don't know her, but I also don't know how to get to the address Freddie gave me, so I need a guide. I figure she won't mind, since she offered me help or whatever. Since Freddie is already off to work, maybe Carly's husband is out too. I don't know why, but I feel uncomfortable around him, or any other guy in this town. He doesn't seem like a bad person, but man in general makes me disgusted. The only guy I haven't felt this way about was Freddie. I don't know, there was something about the way he refused to take me, that makes me respect him a little bit. But I don't know him completely; I can't say for sure who he is.<p>

I finish the dishes, but before I can go to my neighbor's house, there's something my curious mind is begging me to do. I open the door to the backyard and look around, making sure no one can see me, then I walk as fast as I can to the small workshop where Freddie locked himself the night before. The door is unlocked, and it creaks when I push it open. To my surprise, the little house is empty, there's no trace of destruction at all. The only relevant thing is a little drop of blood in the corner of the wall. I don't remember seeing any injuries on Freddie, and his friend didn't look hurt when he left yesterday. So, where did the blood came from?

Maybe I should just do what he said and stay out of his business. So far he hasn't even tried to meddle in my life, so I should just stay out of his. I close the door and make my way back into the house. I grab a new purse from inside the closet, tuck the address inside, put on a jacket, wrap a scarf around my neck and grab a pair of gloves. It's cold outside and Freddie took the only car, so I guess I'll have to walk.

Freddie was right, Carly's house is identical to ours, at least from the outside it is. As I expected, her husband's car is not here, which means he must be at work. I knock on the door twice before she opens it. Her hair is perfectly braided, she's wearing a flowered dress and an apron. I remembered when she said she was home all day, maybe she's a housewife. I can't think of anything worse than being a house wife.

"Hi." She greets me with a smile.

"Hey."

"So, you finally decided to come around."

I nod, there's not much I can say, I don't even know the girl.

"Well, come on in, it's freezing outside."

The inside of her house is the same as mine, except her walls have colors, while mine are plain white. The furniture is the same, but somehow her house feels cozier. She doesn't seem unhappy with her life, or maybe she's just a better actress than I can give her credit for. Nonetheless, she doesn't seem unhappy at all. As I make my way into the living room, following her, I look for bruises on her body, marks or cuts. I don't find anything. Maybe he is like Freddie, maybe he doesn't beat her. I find it hard to believe, a man who doesn't try to prove his superiority by using his fist. Maybe she hides the bruises; maybe he kicks and punches her in the stomach so no one can see.

"Have a seat. I was just finishing making some tea. You want some?" She asks.

"No, thanks." I put my purse on the couch, next to me and remove my gloves.

"So, Sam? How was your first night here?"

My brain searches for the right mean to her question. Is she asking how I slept, or if I slept with my husband? Obviously, my hesitation must've made her realize what her words might've seemed.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I don't mean to ask you anything personal." She shakes her hands. "I was just wondering if you had a good night of sleep."

"Oh… uh… maybe, I guess."

I did not. I'm still tired from last night's events, and my body is somewhat sore from sleeping against the door.

"You know… I was awake when… Brad had to go outside."

Carly speaks gingerly, toying with her white apron.

"I don't mean to bring this up… but I want you to know that Freddie is a good person. Brad is a great guy, and it's because of him. You know, my first night here was really weird. I was scared shitless, but Brad told me to relax. He lay on the bed beside me and told me all these great stories about the people he saved. He said that Freddie was a hero, he saved a bunch of people in the war, including Brad, several times. My husband looks up to him, you know. He said if wasn't for Freddie he would probably be dead, or would become a monster."

It'll take me some time to process her words. I had a small knowledge that Freddie might've been a good guy, but I'm not an easy person to convince with words. All I wanna know is why she's telling me all this.

"All I'm trying to say is, don't be scared of him. He won't hurt you."

All the time she speaks, my eyes are registering her every move. I want to see if she squirms in pain when she moves, I don't know why but I want to find out where he beats her that I can't see.

"Okay… I know… I came here because… well, I need to go downtown to this address…"

I open my purse and show her the paper.

"And I don't know how to get there. I was wondering maybe you could take me. If it's okay with you."

She scans the address for a second, then grins;

"Sure, I'll take you there. In the mean time I can show you around."

"How long do you live here?"

"Oh, two months. But I walk around a lot, there's not much to do. And Brad takes me for a walk at night, every now and then."

"Okay. I'm supposed to go there and find out what my job is going to be. I don't get to choose, right?"

"No you don't, it's all part of the psychological evaluation."

"Did you want to be a housewife?"

"It's the only thing I know how to be. After my brother and father went to war, I was sent to a nunnery. I learned how to cook, clean and be a good wife. It's all I know."

I felt bad for her. But I'll feel worse for myself if I have to stay home all day.

"Alright… well… let me put on a coat so we can go."

* * *

><p>Outside is cold, but it doesn't snow. The weather is all fucked up after so many nuclear bombs. Where I come from, Texas, the weather is hotter, so I find this cold air nothing but irritating. The gloves keep my hands warm, so does the coat and scarf, but my legs are bare because of the dress, and weather freezes my bones. Carly is telling me a bunch of things about the town, and the plans Visualize has for it. She tells me her husband works there, in some sort of law department and that he truly believes in what they're doing.<p>

I try not to think too badly of him, because he's one of those jackasses, but I can't help it. The way these people think they can control everyone drives me crazy. Carly seems like a nice chick, and she's helping me, so I bite my tongue not to bash her husband. Our walk takes at least fifteen minutes, and I can't seem to find any bruises, nor does she seem to be on pain of any kind. Maybe he doesn't beat her after all. But then again, she seems polite enough, submissive.

"It's here."

The building is new, like it was built yesterday. It looks like this city hall from my hometown, but creepier. Carly opens the big metal door and we step in. There are a lot of people inside, sitting on chairs waiting for something. There's a woman in the reception, she's calling people by numbers. Carly tells me to grab a number and wait to be called. We sit on the bench and wait for my turn.

"So, what exactly they're going to do to me to find out what my job will be?"

"They already have your file, the psychological evaluation they did to you before you came here. They already have it all planed out for you, but they'll ask you some questions. They'll give you a book of laws, it's important to read the marriage section. And they'll give you this little notebook with your doctors, the appointments' dates and addresses."

"Oh… these doctors? What's they are for?"

"To keep a track of your… sexual life." She whispers.

"What?"

"They give you the first month free, then the second month you must come in the date they set up for you, so they can check on you. They'll check if the marriage was consummated, they'll check for diseases, anomalies and your fertility status."

"They keep a track of my fertility? Why?"

"You have to procreate; they want to make sure you're able."

"In case I'm not?"

Carly thinks for a while, looking down at her hands. This gives me time to think. One way or another I'll have to consummate my wedding before the next month is over. There's no escape from that. What will happen to me if I'm not fertile? Or if they find out I didn't do anything sexual with my husband?

"I don't know. I try not to think about it, and I never asked Brad what could happen."

"How was yours… you know, your first time in the doctor."

"Oh, it was scary, but fine. Brad was waiting outside for me, but I was really nervous. The doctor did the check up, told me I was fertile and good to start having babies."

"Do you want kids?"

"I-I… don't know. Maybe I guess… yeah, I want to have children." She smiled at me.

We didn't talk anymore. I was deciding whether or not to believe she really wanted any of this. By the way she talks about her husband; maybe he is good to her. This whole check up thing scared me. I don't know what could happen to me if they found out I didn't do anything with Freddie. Will they kill me? Kill him? What would they do to us? I remember something about the woman that taught us how to behave in front of our husbands; she said something about showing discipline, otherwise that would be consequences. She also said something about Visualize wanting to set up an example, but she didn't specify. Of course they want us to walk on the line, they wouldn't want to scare people into rebelling.

* * *

><p>It's almost eleven when my number gets called. Carly gives me an encouraging smile and tells me to go to the reception. The woman there is about fifty, her hair is gray and she doesn't seem very happy to see me, or anyone else.<p>

"Name please."

"Samantha Puckett."

She searches through some files, and then looks back at me harshly.

"Married name."

"Oh… Benson, Samantha Benson."

I didn't have time to get used to my married name, but I guess it's not so bad. Benson, I wonder if Irish or something.

"Room 125."

She points me at a huge corridor behind her. I take a deep breath and go my way. There are many doors, with numbers on it, and the V, for Visualize, carved on each door. The corridor is not dark, but gives me the chills because is so silent. I find room 125 and instead of knocking on the door and disturbing the creepy silence, I just open it and walk in. There's a woman sitting behind a desk, she gestures for me to sit and close the door behind me.

"Your name please?"

"Samantha Benson."

"Benson, Samantha…" She grabs a file out of her cabinet and flips the pages.

"I understand you got married yesterday. Is this correct?"

"Yes. I got married yesterday."

"To, former US Army's Special Forces' Captain, Fredward Benson, is this correct?"

"Yes." I didn't know he was a Captain.

"Correct me if I'm wrong."

I nod.

"Samantha Joy Benson, former Samantha Joy Puckett. Dallas, Texas. Born in April 17, 1994. Resided in a farm 80 miles north east of Dallas. Correct?"

"Yes."

"Daughter of Pamela and Ian Puckett. Twin sister of Melanie Ann Grant, former Melanie Ann Puckett, married to Lucas Grant. Both parents are deceased during the war. Correct?"

"Yes." I gulped at the mention of their names.

"Spent the last two years on an underground base down south. Correct?"

"Yes."

"Married to Captain Fredward Karl Benson. Civil engineering: currently working for Visualize Constructions. Hometown: Seattle, Washington. Born in February 4, 1994. Joined the army at the age of twelve. Has battle field and sniper training. Son of Marissa and Anton Benson, MD. No siblings. Both parents deceased. Currently under psychological treatment, but was released by his doctor to serve his duties as a progenitor and a husband."

Every word she said about me, hurt but I could never imagine Freddie's life was anything like that. No wonder he has night terrors. Something inside of me ached, when she said he was thrown into the army with twelve years old, I can't imagine how this must feel like for a child. How do you teach a 12 years old how to be a sniper? It's just sick and twisted. I can't even begin to picture what he must've gone through all those years. I know I lost my childhood to the war, but he… almost lost his sanity.

"Based on the psychological evaluation we made on you, it's in your best interesting to accept a job on Johnson's Bakery & Pastry downtown, ten minutes from your house."

I didn't want to be a housewife, but I never imagined myself working on a bakery. Sure I know how to cook and bake, but a bakery? I don't know, I guess it's better than nothing.

"Here the address, we already contacted the owner, you should be starting tomorrow morning, around eight."

She gave me a small card with address written on.

"Now, the book of laws. It's important that you're familiar with laws of the nation to avoid misunderstandings. Section 145 is the marriage section, where you'll learn how to behave with your spouse. You'll learn what you can't or cannot do. And every Saturday at ten in the morning, you'll have to attend to classes in the community center for at least three months."

"Classes? What classes?"

She gave me a bitter look, but proceeded.

"To learn more about how to be a good spouse. You have a month to get used to your married life, but in the end of the second month you must pay the doctor a visit. She'll check up on you and make sure everything is order. You'll find in this book that, such things as cheating, flirting and contracting diseases outside of your marriage is a felony. You belong only to your spouse, and he belongs to you. You have the duty to procreate, by conceiving the first child within six months of marriage. In case you're not able to provide, we'll find your spouse a new companion, able to give him spawns. Same thing will happen to him."

"What will happen to me if I can't procreate?"

"You'll be given a new job and shelter; if he wants, your spouse will be released from his duties to you and receive a new companion, able to provide children."

Maybe if I can't have children I'll be free. They'll set me free from this marriage contract?

"This new job and…?" She raised her hand telling me to shut up.

"A nunnery three miles from here. Your job will be to cook, clean and do gardening. Later on, when you're older, you can teach other girls how to behave in front of their spouses."

Great, a husband I don't even know and a job on a bakery, or being a nun and a maid?

"Alright."

"Do you have any questions?"

"How can I communicate with my sister?"

"After the first child is born, the couple is given a gift of their choice. You can ask for a phone for you, but if your sister doesn't have it, she'll have to use the public phone and that costs money."

"What about letters?"

"You can write one letter per month, put the address on and the mailman will deliver to your sister. That's, after you give birth to your first born."

She handed me the book of laws, the notebook for the doctor, ID for the community center and the address to the bakery I supposed to work at. She just handed me my whole life, planned and designed for me, and I couldn't even object. Apparently the only way to get rid of a wedding is not being fertile, and that I can't control. When I exit the room, a thousand questions are flooding my mind, but I don't dare ask them, I fear what the answer might be.

It hurts to know I can't speak to Melanie, the last I heard from her before I left, she said she was better, that he wasn't angry with her anymore. I just hope she's alright. _After the first child is born, the couple is given a gift of their choice… _the first child… how I am supposed to… I don't even want to think about it.

Carly is waiting outside for me, and we walk home in silence. I can tell she sensed my anxiety, but the only question she asks is what my job is going to be. I tell her and she smiles, telling me this will be a good thing. If only I could believe her. We say goodbye on the sidewalk and I go back to my house. I go upstairs and lie on the bed, curl into a ball and cry. Normally I don't cry, but today I don't care about anything, I need to let it out.

* * *

><p>I'm having a bad dream, I'm remembering that day in the barn… its filth and he smells like booze and gun powder. He whimpers and groans foreigner words, I try to close my eyes but I can't, the image is too much to ignore. Melanie closes her eyes and covers her mouth, I just stare, eyes wide open, frozen. The smell of blood and sweat makes me want to vomit, but I promised I'd be quiet, so I stay quiet, not even my breaths can be heard. I can hear them laughing, enjoying the show. Afterwards, he puts on his pants back on and takes a sip of his bottle. And then we hear the gunshot, there's so much blood and…<p>

"Sam? Sam? Are you okay?"

I feel his hands on my shoulders, shaking me up. I immediately shove on his chest and scoot backwards, until I hit the headboard of the bed.

"Stay away from me!" I cry out.

"Sam… calm down. It's me. I'm not going to hurt you."

He raises his hands up, but scoots closer to me, and I put my foot on his stomach and shove him away.

"I mean it! Stay away!"

"Sam, I need you to breathe okay, please you're turning purple."

I shake and sob, kick and scream. My eyes close on their own accord and even between my temper tantrums, I can feel a pair of strong arms encircling me and I try my hardest to push him away but he's way too strong and I'm tired. Maybe I should just give in, if I behave he won't hurt me too much.

"Shh, it's okay." He hums against my ear.

I'm prepared to suffer, when he surprises me by stroking my hair. It's such a tender gesture; my lungs start to properly function again. My whole body relaxes and I finally open my eyes. I'm in my new room, in my new house, in the arms of a strong man. He has a scar right above his elbow, and it's small but must've been deep because it's very noticeable. Soon, I'm not shaking anymore, and I'm able to lift my head up.

"Hey."

Freddie is kneeling on the bed, his arms wrapped firmly around me, his chin on my eye level. I've never been so close to him before, and now I can see he's truly gorgeous. He has this tiny little mole on his temple, right next to his sideburns and a scar above his eyebrow. His eyes are brown like chocolate and his hair is almost as the same color as his eyes. The strands seem so smooth. He cups my face with both hands, and caresses my cheeks with his thumbs. My breath is not rapid and ragged anymore and I feel safe. Because someone is here. _He_ is here.

"You're okay?"

"Yes, thank you. It was just a bad dream."

"I guess we're a pretty messed up in the head. Maybe that's why Visualize paired us up."

I can't help but chuckle. It's been so long since I was able to laugh, maybe months, maybe years.

"There you go…"

With his thumbs, he wipes away my tears. He traps my nose between his forefinger and middle finger, and squeezes it briefly. This stupid move, for some reason makes me smile. And my smile, for some stupid reason, makes him grin. His nose wrinkles when he smiles, and I can see his dimples. He is… cute, in a damaged sort of way.

"Wanna talk about it?" I shake my head no. "Okay. Why don't we go out to eat, huh? Then you can tell me all about your visit to the Civil Office. How does that sound?"

I nod and he smiles.

"Okay. Why don't you go and take a shower? I'll be waiting for you downstairs."

After he leaves, I stay where I was, unmoving. The way he just treated me… I don't know why but it made me feel all warm inside. He's probably tired from working all day, and still he wants to take me out… it's already dark outside, which means I have slept all day long and skipped lunch. My stomach growls, so I stand up and head for the bathroom. The warmth of the water is nothing compared to his hands, and how they felt against my skin. I touch my cheeks, where his hands were before, and I feel my stomach flip-flop.

This only makes everything worse for me, he's trying to creep into me and I can't allow it. It will only make him more dangerous.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thanks SAM-seddie-FREDDIE, for your review! It brights up my day. XD_

* * *

><p><em>One Republic - All The Right Moves<em>


	5. Friends, Lovers, Or Nothing

**Genre:** _Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary: **_They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired by, this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast.**_

* * *

><p>We walk silently side by side. I don't know how to act, but I put on my cool façade for her sake only. I offered to take her out for diner, because when I got home she was having a nightmare, and for the looks of it, it wasn't an easy one. When is ever? Also, I guess she got scared or upset about her visit to the Civil Building. Hearing someone planning your life for you isn't easy when you can't even object. I guess she must've slept through lunch, because when I got home there was no sign of food made.<p>

I don't really mind, I've been living of mac and cheese since the war ended, and before that… well, I don't even have a word to name the horrid food I swallowed every day. I feel a little hungry though, but she was upset and I didn't want to ask her to cook for me. That's mainly why I offered to take her out. Looking back now, I realize it almost seems like a date. Well, we are married, but we never even been on a date. I never had a date.

That was this girl in school, back when I was a kid, and she was really pretty. Her long red hair cascade down her shoulders, and she had the most adorable freckles. One afternoon I grew the balls to give her a cookie, and she kissed me on the cheek. She said I was her boyfriend, but that was a week before hell broke loose and my dad had to go to war. The last I remember of her, was when the soldiers stormed into our school, telling the teachers to evacuate. That was the last time I saw her. Before her mother arrived, she came to me and kissed me on the lips, saying goodbye.

After that my life turned upside down and I didn't have the time to have a girlfriend. Sure, I had my fair share of whores during the war, and one regular girl, but no dates. I never had a date, let alone a girlfriend. And now I'm married, which seems really ironic.

"Benson. Is your name Irish or something?" Sam asks.

We haven't made much conversation, or effort to get to know each other better, and I feel bad about it. She's my wife, for Christ's sakes, and I don't even know her favorite color.

"No, it's originally Anglo-Saxon I guess. Wanna know what it means?"

"What it means?"

She's toying with the edge of her skirt, and I find that adorable. I've established she's beautiful, and she seems to have a strong personality, which I like. A lot. But until now, I haven't really realized how cute she can be sometimes.

"Son of Ben, or son of Benjamin. Also meaning son of the right hand, or son of the favored one."

"It's a cool meaning."

"Well, it's just bullshit. It doesn't really mean anything."

"Still, I think it's nice."

"If you say so."

There's a little restaurant five minutes from our neighborhood and we can walk there. I chose to walk so I can show her the town, but I'm so nervous I can't even speak right and I don't remember the names of the streets because I'm so anxious.

"So, how was in the Civil Office?"

_Did they scar you for life?_

"Weird, that place is weird."

"What about your job?"

I'm desperate to make conversation, any kind o conversation, mainly because I don't like to feel nervous and because I don't want this to be awkward.

"Oh, uh… I've got a job at the Johnson's Bakery & Pastry." She says warily.

"Do you like it? I mean, are you satisfied?"

I can't help her if she's happy, that would be a very dumb question.

"It's okay I guess. I mean, I will be out of the house and surrounded by food every day. It can't be all bad."

She shrugs and I chuckle, loudly. Sam looks at me quizzically, as if she doesn't understand what I'm laughing at.

"Sorry, the way you said it… it was funny. But I wasn't mocking you… you're just funny when it comes to food."

"What do you mean?"

She stops her tracks and crosses her arms against her chest. Uh-oh, I didn't mean to make her mad.

"I mean… this morning with the bacon, it was funny, how your eyes followed it from side to side. And now you say it's good to be surrounded by food. I don't know… it's like… you like that very much, and it's kinda funny. I don't know how to explain."

Sam looks at me carefully and I can't read her emotions. Once again I feel self conscious that she's trying to find a cruel intention in my every move.

"I guess it's just because, for a long time I couldn't be surrounded by food. It was counted, limited, maybe I'm just…" she shrugs her shoulders, "I don't know, ecstatic?"

She begins to walk again, but I don't. I feel sad, for everything we all had to go through during the war. I understand the feeling, I've been there. I've been through hell and back. I didn't mean to mock her misery, God knows I could never do that. I take a step forward and grab her by the arm. She seems startled at first and I can feel her tensing up the way she did earlier, so I soften my grip a little, telling her with my eyes, she doesn't have to be afraid.

"I'm sorry, I know exactly what you mean. I've been there too."

Her eyes shift between my face and my hand, and the way I'm holding her wrist. I'm not holding it tight, because I don't want to scare her, but I bring her just a little bit closer to me, so I don't have to speak aloud. Just a whisper and she can hear me.

"The dry food being pushed down your throat, while you try to ignore the musky taste because you're hungry and you need to eat. The nights when your stomach growls, you can't just make yourself a midnight snack, so you force yourself to sleep even if your stomach hurts. Not being able to really taste anything, because there's nothing worth tasting. You can't eat as much as you want because there has to be food for everyone, so even when you're fed, you're hungry. I know what you meant, I didn't mean to mock. I just find… cute how much you enjoyed the bacon this morning. That's all."

I gulp a little when she remains silent, staring down at my hand again. If she doesn't say anything soon, I'll just let go and start walking again.

"That's exactly how it felt." She says in a soft whisper.

Even though her eyes remain locked on her wrist, her voice is soft enough to tell me she isn't afraid. My next move is way too anticipated, bold even, but I can't stop it from happening. Soon I'm sliding my hand down to hers, holding it loosely.

"You'll never go hungry again, you know."

Although she nods, I can feel her tensing up again. I wonder if this is okay, or if it's better to just take my hand away from hers. I shouldn't have done it, it's way too early to try to have any kind of intimacy with her. I can't really feel the skin of her hand, because of the gloves she's wearing, but I feel its warmth, and it's reassuring. This makes me mourn the loss of it when I let go of her. I look at her apologetically, for being so bold with my advances. I don't want her to think I'm seeking something, wanting something, I just really wanted to reassure her that the hunger wasn't coming back. We start to walk again in complete silence.

"I really do like bacon." She says after a few seconds of awkward silence.

I can tell she's nervous, because her voice is a little weak, and the way she gulps, tells me I should probably break the tension.

"Well, I like fried chicken."

"Me too!" This is the first time her voice comes out a little idly, and that makes me smile.

"I like everything chicken. Chicken wings, chicken legs. Fried, boiled, in the soup or right from the bucket."

"I do too." She smiles. "So are going to have a lot of chicken in the house, then?"

I can hear the slight hint of joke in her voice. If she had super ears, she would probably hear my heart beating its way to my mouth, just because I'm so… _relieved?_

"I guess we will."

Two couples pass us by, holding hands and laughing. Something about the way Sam looks at them tells me she can't believe arranged marriages can work. To be totally fair, neither do I, but that doesn't mean we can't be friends.

"So?" I ask.

"So?" She replies, looking at me from the corner of her eye.

"You wanna… you… you know…" I offer her my arm.

She looks unsure, but accepts my offer with a long breath. She folds her arm in between the gap of mine, and now our arms are linked. It feels nice, in some sort of way.

* * *

><p>When we arrive at home, around ten ish, I'm so tired, my body is aching for rest. The lumps in the couch didn't let me sleep right, and after the nightmare… well, let's just say the floor in the workshop isn't as comforting as a bed. Still, I'm going for the couch again, sleeping in those rooms don't seem right. I don't worry about another attack today, I've spoken to my doctor and grabbed some more pills to make sure my head will be under control.<p>

I feel so embarrassed about what happened last night, I can't even begin to explain. Thank God she didn't ask about it anymore, because I wouldn't know what to say. I hate that someone, especially her, would see me like that. But thankfully, Brad heard my screams, and came for my rescue. After the war was over, we all ended with some battle scars. I have so many I've lost count, but the psychological ones are the worse. Even when you try to stop remembering, when you try not to think about it, it gets to you, it haunts you down.

Under medication I feel better, well, not really better but under control. Still, the bleeding never stops. My doctor tells me it's psychological, there's no medical cause to it, and I guess it probably is. But it's annoying. Thankfully I'm an early riser, so I could clean the place before Sam woke up. Speaking of Sam, tonight wasn't a complete disaster, although we didn't talk much. Or at all. Nothing important at least, it was more like, _can you pass me the salt? _But she did accept my arm and we walked there like… a _couple_…? A _real_ couple? So our first date wasn't that good, I mean, I don't even know what you're supposed to do on a date! And can you consider it a real date when the other person doesn't know it's a date? These things are so confusing.

"I'm done with the shower."

She tells me from the top of the stairs. Tonight she's wearing the same white silky robe, with a small nightgown underneath. It's hard for me to concentrate in my answer with her legs exposed like that. She has… great legs. Yeah… great.

"I uh… yeah. Sure, thanks."

I climb the stairs and pass by her, she's toying with her hair, and I think she does that for the sake of doing something with her hands. I don't have long hair to toy with, or will ever wear a skirt, so I keep them safely in my pockets. I've been through some weird situations, but nothing compared to live in a house, with a stranger, you're supposed to spend the rest of your life with. I've lived with strangers before, but I didn't have to compromise to them for the rest of my life, let alone have children with them. This is a little too much, so forgive me if I don't know how to act.

* * *

><p>After I exit from the shower, Sam is sitting on the edge of the bed, bouncing her foot nervously. I dry my hair and hang the towel in the bathroom, before making my way to the bed to collect my pillow and go downstairs.<p>

"Where are you going…?" She asks gingerly.

"Uh, downstairs."

"You're going to sleep on the couch again?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me, I kinda like the couch."

I lie, because the truth is, that couch sucks.

"Why do you keep delaying it?"

Her voice is a sharp tone of accusation, and takes me by surprise when I'm halfway out the door.

"Do you know what can happen to me if I don't procreate? They'll send me to a nunnery! Is that what you want?"

I take a deep breath, telling myself to be cool and finally turn around.

"No, Sam that's not what I want."

"Then why do you keep delaying the inevitable? You and I, both, know this needs to happen. So, why don't you just do it like you should?"

"Because… I already told you why."

"And I already told you I don't care!"

"I know that you think you're the strongest being in the universe Sam, but I'm not! There are some things that I can't do. I can't be that guy!"

I finally yell. I've been wanting to yell for so long. I just take it and take it, swallow everything they forced down my throat until I couldn't breathe. I was feeling suffocated and she was only making it worse!

"You have, no idea what I've been through. What I had to do in this life. Did you know I was a sniper?" She nods, looking at her feet. "I've shot and killed 272 people. Teenagers like me, older man, fathers, sons, husbands, soldiers, civilians. Do you think I feel proud of it?" She shakes her head no.

"I don't, Sam. I've killed 157 men using a knife, 238 with my gun and 79 using grenades. Do you think I forgot any of their faces?"

There's an awkward silence. I really didn't want to be saying this, but I need her to understand this is something I cannot do.

"Some nights, when I'm not too high on medication I dream with their faces. They haunt me in nights like yesterday. This burden is too much for me to carry, but I have to, there's no way out of it. Doing this, that you claim that won't affect you in any ways, will affect me. This will be just one more thing I'll have to carry on my back, and every time I see your face, I'll remember. I'll feel guilty. Even if you don't care, I do! So it's not fair to me what you're doing, and what you're asking of me. I don't need to feel more like a monster than I already do! So please, forgive me if I can't lie on top of you, while you stay still, unmoving beneath me, taking whatever you think I've got! I'm already a killer; please don't ask me to be a rapist too! Because you're obviously not into it, so I consider that rape!"

I press my forehead against the doorframe, and count to ten over and over again. My pillow is long forgotten on the floor, I must've dropped in my rage attack. She's not saying anything, and I wonder if I scared her. Maybe is for the best, maybe if she's scared of me she won't ask me for things I cannot do. After several seconds, I collect my pillow and dragged myself downstairs to my couch.

* * *

><p>I lie in the couch and cover my face with the pillow hard enough to suffocate a little bit, but I don't want to take it off. I shouldn't have snapped at her like that, she kind of has a point. We have to consummate the union until the second month is over. But I don't want it to be like this, I don't want it to be now, this way. Why can't she understand that? I remember yesterday, when she asked me if "we people" from the war raped everyone around. That gives me the sense something like that happened to her, or someone she knew, and I'm not going to be the guy who's going to put her through that again. It's already hard to live with myself after what I've done, this would only make my existence more painful.<p>

My body is so tired, I'm beginning to fall asleep, and God knows I need it. Then I feel a soft hand over my forearm, and I'm awake again. I remove the pillow from my face and sigh. I don't need to open my eyes to know who it is.

"I'm sorry. I really am. This is hard for me too, but I guess the only thing I've been thinking about since I've got here was myself. I never really thought about how you felt about it, and what this meant to you. You are right, you shouldn't do it if you don't want. But I just want you to know, that I don't think you can be that kind of guy. It's too early to tell you that I know you, because I don't, but honestly I have this good feeling about you Freddie. And somehow I know you won't… hurt me. So, I'm sorry."

She didn't need to apologize, but I appreciate the feeling. I open my eyes to look at her, and even in the dark she manages to look pretty.

"It's okay. I'm sorry I snapped, you are kind of right. We'll have to do something before the next month is over, but I don't want this to be like that. You think we could… you know… be friends?"

"I never had a friend. Just my sister, and I don't know if it counts."

"Well…" I smile. "I'm glad to be your first. So let's start over again. Hello Samantha, I'm Freddie Benson."

I offer her my hand.

"Seriously?" She asks.

"Seriously." I insist.

She rolls her eyes but smiles, taking the hand I offered her and shaking it.

"Please, call me Sam. It's nice to meet you Freddie Benson."

"Nice to meet you too, Sam." I yawn. "Listen, I know we just met, but I really want to get to know you better, so what do you say we go out to dinner tomorrow night?"

"Why can't we just meet right now?"

"Because I'm really sleepy… but tomorrow, we're going out. I'll tell you a bit about myself, and you tell me about yourself."

"Uh…" She rubs her chin, thinking. "What is in it for me? What do I get?"

"I'll buy you a bucket of fried chicken."

"Oh… okay, I'll go out with you."

Her eyes shone when I mentioned food. I guess the quickest way to this girl's heart is through her mouth… wait… do I even want to get there?

"Uh… okay. Seven is good for you?" I clear my throat.

"Yeah, it's okay."

She stands up from where she was sitting in the coffee table.

"You can come and sleep on the bed if you want."

"Nah, thanks. You can have it. I'm good here."

"Do you want to sleep on the bed, while I take the couch?"

Sam asks awkwardly, her mouth forming in a tiny pink _o, _and I find myself wondering how soft her lips must be. Man, I need her to get the hell out of here, now!

"No. You keep the bed, now go… because…" I yawn. "I need to wake up early tomorrow."

Sam gives me a look I can't decipher, but nods anyway.

"Goodnight Freddie."

"Goodnight Sam."

After she leaves I laugh. I'm going out on a date with my wife. Our first real date, because this time, she knows we're going on a date. My first date, ever in my life, with my wife. Oh man, I had to laugh. I'm not going to even think about my situation and how ironic it seems. The important thing here is, that I'm going to be her friend. And make life easier for both of us.

* * *

><p><em>John Mayer - Friends, Lovers Or Nothing<em>


	6. It's Beginning To Get To Me

**Genre:** _Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary: **_They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired by, this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast.**_

* * *

><p>Today is my first day of work. I woke up feeling much better, despite the common nervousness of the first day. In terms of sleep, my body was well rested and relaxed, and thankfully I didn't have a nightmare last night, though I felt incredibly lonely in that big bed. Although my body is rested, my mind is running around in circles, first, well it's my first day, and second… it's my first date. I try not to be nervous, but I can't help it, I've never been on a date before, never even kissed a boy, I don't even know what to do. What should I wear? What do I talk about? What's there to do on a date? Do we have to hold hands and kiss?<p>

Ugh, this is frustrating! I haven't felt so anxious about something in so long. As much as I want the time to stop, so I'll never reach seven o'clock, I also want the time to fast forward so I can be out on my date, and that's infuriating. Maybe I should ask Freddie what's there to do on a date, he seems more experienced than me. But if I ask him, I'll admit I don't know what to do and that I'm interesting in finding out, which is the same thing as admitting that I'm somehow looking forward to it. But I can't do that without letting him know that, at some level, I want to go out with him. Even though I already said I would, I don't want him to know that I'm… a little eager to go on a date with him. That will require me to show my vulnerability, and that is a sign of weakness, and I can't afford to be weak.

The more I think about what he said to me last night, the more I hate myself for asking him to get it over with. I never considerate the affects this must've caused him, I only thought about myself. I've always been selfish, but somehow I just can't be selfish with him. I don't know if it is because all he went through with the war, or if it is because he's been nothing but patient to me. Either way, I just find myself wanting to apologize for being so stupid.

I didn't even take in consideration the aftermath. It would too heavy and weird being around him, and I would eventually become disgusted by his presence. If we somehow get to know each other better, and maybe find ourselves sharing a mutual feeling of friendship or/and trust, the aftermath might not be so horrifying. At some point, we'll have to get there, but he is right, now is not the right time. I guess he's smarter than be, because he was able to foresee it, while I wasn't.

I was fresh out of the shower when someone ringed the bell. Without hurrying, I knew Freddie would answer it because he was right downstairs, so I made my way to the closet to choose one of the disgusting clothes Visualize had set up for me. I didn't know what should I wear, the grey white dress, seems a little too wrong to be around food, but the black dress is not very is not suitable to be around flour. There's blue, pink, yellow and purple, flowers, leaves, patterns, but they all utterly disgust me.

Knock, knock on the bedroom door.

"_Sam? Are you awake? It's me, Freddie."_

Sure, he'll be up and wanting to use the shower or just grab a few clothes for himself. I look down at my torso covered by a towel. What should I do? Should I throw on some dress, any dress just to cover myself?

"Wait… just a minute!"

"_Are you getting dress?"_

My breath gets caught on my throat at his words. Why is he asking this? Does he want to come in and see me dressing? No, that's stupid, he won't even sleep in the same bed as me, why would he want to barge into the room to see me naked? Maybe he changed his mind… no, he doesn't seem the type of guy to do that. Maybe he just wants to see?

"_I… it's just… your uniform just arrived…"_ he says.

Oh… right. That's why he asked me if I was getting dress… so I wouldn't waste my time putting something I was going to take off anyway.

"I was about to." I answer, gulping.

"_Listen, I'm going to put it here on the doorknob and I'm going to go downstairs to finish coffee."_

"Okay."

I hear the click of the metal, then his footsteps, until they disappear. I'm guessing he went downstairs already, so I open the door carefully poking my head outside, just to be sure. He's not around, but I can smell that familiar scent of bacon and eggs. He's cooking breakfast, probably has been awake longer than I thought. I grab my uniform, the shoe box on the floor and go back inside, closing the door behind me.

The uniform is a simple grey dress with Johnson's Bakery & Pastry writing across the left breast. In the box there's a pair of grey ballerina flats, simple with no design. I put on my dress and my shoes, do my hair with a ponytail and go downstairs.

* * *

><p>Freddie is already in the kitchen, putting the coffee on the table. He's already showered and dressed, the cool and clean scent coming from him tells me he's been up for half an hour or so. He sees me, then his eyes scan my uniform, making my cheeks go red, then he smiles, making my stomach clench, and nods his head towards the table.<p>

"Morning." He greets.

"Morning." I reply, taking my regular seat across from him. "How long you've been up?"

"Ah, half an hour or so. I put on some of my clothes in the other room and showered in the bathroom down the hall."

"Oh, okay."

I'm not ready for intimacy, but this distance also annoys me.

"Coffee?" He asks.

"Sure." I give him my cup and he pours coffee for me.

For a person who lived solely from mac and cheese, he does very good breakfast. And he definitely can make coffee. It's never too bitter, but never too sweet, just the right amount of sugar.

"So? Nice uniform." He comments flatly, but doesn't fail to make me feel a little nervous.

"Thanks."

"Are you nervous on your first day?" He asks, before taking a sip of his coffee.

"A little, I never worked before."

"But you do know how to bake bread, right?"

"Yeah, I used to bake all the time in the base I was in. the women and girls had to do the work and bake and cook food to send to the soldiers and the refugees."

"Oh."

I remember what he said about the bad food he used to shove down his throat every day.

"I think that by the time the food actually got to the soldiers it was already hard, cold and bad."

"Not so bad, I guess." He says. Eating a slice of his bacon.

"Anyway…"

I decide to change subject, no more war stories in the morning. I don't want to make him uncomfortable.

"I'm looking forward to learn more tricks. I've never baked sweet bread, or a cake."

"You think you can… you know, practice at home some times? I'd be glad to taste it." He smirks.

This is the first time he gives me a playful smirk. It makes my insides warm up. I've established previously, that he is indeed attractive, and cute, but now he seems… I don't know, something else, more than handsome, more than cute. Something more male… beyond attractive, but I don't know what's called.

"I can do that if you want. I could use a little practice too, I don't want to be screwing up on my work every day."

He nods and dives into his food once again. I do the same, only I have one question to ask.

"How come they don't teach us our jobs before we have to commit with them?"

"They do. I mean, they taught me how to draw blueprints and build secure foundations for a house."

"Why I don't get to learn how to bake bread?"

"I don't know…"

He thinks for a while, and when he does that his brows furrow, he puckers his lips a little, probably involuntary, and his eyes get darker and deeper than usual. I look between his brows and eyes, then my eyes travel lower to his nose… he has a great nose. Finally, I'm over taken by curiosity and let my eyes lower to his lips. They're rosy and seem to be so soft… I wonder how they must feel like, or taste like. I wonder how a kiss must taste like.

"Maybe they'll teach you every day, while you work. Every job has a different system. My job, well, I had to learn first, because I couldn't just go around building houses out of scratch. It could be dangerous. Your job… not that I'm diminishing it or whatever, but let's just say it would be more likely for me to accidentally kill a person than you, unless you put venom on the bread, which I'm sure you wouldn't, I'm just trying to say that…"

All of this rambling is starting to irritate me, as well as amuse me. I find rather endearing the effort he puts into justifying himself, in order to make sure I get his point without being offended by it. The other night with the food, and how he explained the feeling, it got to me, and it got to me good. He understands what I've been through, but I guess I could never compare to what happened to him. In some level, we're just as screw up, but despite being polite and patient, he's far more screwed up than I am. I actually never had to kill anyone, of course I wanted to, but I never did. While he had to do it for years on end.

The way he told me last night about how many people he killed, I could see in his eyes the pain and the guilt. He's not a monster he claims to be, because I monster wouldn't feel an ounce of remorse for all the lives he took. He is just a wounded person, with many issues, but then again, we all are. His guilty and pain makes me respect him even more than I already did. Sometimes I just fail to understand that maybe not everyone in this world is evil.

"Freddie." I interrupt him. "I get it, okay? Your job is much more complex, I'm not offended by that. Relax."

"Alright."

He tries to cover, but I can see him sighing in relief. There's something about the way he gets nervous around me that I can understand, but can't help but wonder. Sure, I'm a stranger, he probably has the same issues with the arranged married that I do, because we don't know each other, but still, I wonder if there is something more. Maybe it's just my mind playing a prank on me, trying to ease the tension, or maybe just daydreaming he will somehow be different. Sure, he is different in some level, I don't know exactly what my mind wants, but it's something along the lines of _maybe he feels something different. _How can he feel something? We met two days ago. He can't possibly feel anything other than sympathy, and neither do I. Maybe my brain is just wondering the possibility of _someday… what if_… no, whatever it doesn't matter.

"I was thinking…" He starts, waking me up from my pointless daydream, "if you want I can drive you to work. I know you can't get there because you don't know how to, but I do. It's a couple of blocks from where I work. So, you want a ride?"

"Sure, that would be nice."

"Good, let's finish breakfast so I can take you there."

* * *

><p>After breakfast, I walked to the sink to wash my dishes, and Freddie did the same. There was an awkward moment between us, while we decided who should wash the dishes. Normally, I hate doing dishes, more than any other domestic shit, but I also don't need anyone to do it for me. He was, of course, trying to be polite, but I don't like depending on people. I can do this on my own.<p>

"You don't have to." I said.

"Really, I want to."

"Don't… I can do it!"

I tried to yank the plate off his hand, but he kept a firm hold of it.

"Sam, please, just stop! I can do it!"

"No! I said, no! I can do it!"

"You did it yesterday… let me do it today!"

"I don't need you to wash the damn dishes for me!"

With one powerful yank, I managed to release the plate from his grip, but I couldn't get a hold of it, before it came crashing on the floor and broke. I swear to God my blood froze. I don't know why I keep doing this, being so stubborn over insignificant things. Freddie moved, and I closed my eyes, expecting to feel the hard surface of his hand colliding against my face. When the blow didn't come, I opened my eyes and saw him, kneeling on the floor to collect the broken pieces. I felt so ashamed, damn it, why couldn't I behave for just one day?

I knelt down and began to help him collect the broken pieces off the floor.

"Sorry, I'm sorry."

"It's okay Sam."

"No it's not. I don't know why I act like this, is just some stupid dishes! I'm sorry, Freddie." I began to frantically repeat.

"It's fine… I had my share of blame. It's fine."

One glance towards his face makes me gasp. He has blood coming out of his nose, slowly rolling down his upper lip. Realizing what I'm looking at, he stands up straight and covers his nose with his hand.

"Did I hurt you? Oh my God, Freddie, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

I try to reach out for him, but he raises his hand to stop me.

"I'm fine, it's nothing. It wasn't your fault, this just happens sometimes. It's fine."

"No it's not, you're bleeding!"

I put a hand on his shoulder, but he withdraws, going for the sink to wash the blood out of his face.

"Does this happen often?" I ask him silently.

"No… not often, sometimes."

I wonder if this has anything to do with the drop of blood I found on the floor of the workshop that other day. He wasn't injured, nor Brad, so that must be it.

"You need help?"

"No, it's fine."His voice is muffed by his hand.

"Let me help, please. Here…"

On the third cabinet door under the sink, there's a box of paper tissues. I grab one and show it to him. He finally gives up, uncovering his face. The blood makes me nauseous, I never liked blood in my life. It brings so many terrible memories, but I force myself to push them to the side and start to wipe the thick liquid off his face.

"Sit down."

I tell him, because he's taller than me, and sitting down would be better for me to hold his head up. I put the tissue under his bloody nose and my hand under his chin, lifting his head up. He has, this tiny little scar under his chin, in the shape of a moon. It's by far, the cutest scar I've ever seen. It's so old, I doubt it has anything to do with the war, at least I hope so. I think I would like to know he wasn't so wounded in the war, but that's impossible. I don't know why, the thought of him getting hurt affects me more than I can accept. Maybe it's probably because he said he wouldn't hurt me, so if I'm not going to get hurt I don't want him to be hurt too. Which is ridiculous.

"I'm going to keep your head hanging high, to help stop the bleeding."

"How do you know how to do this?"

His voice is funny when it's muffed, I just smile and shrug.

"I've learn at some point."

"If you prefer, I can wash my dishes and you can wash yours." He said.

"It doesn't matter right now. We'll figure something out later."

The tissue is soaked in his blood, and I try my best not to vomit. He needs help, not me puking all over his face. I throw the tissue over the table to collect another one and do the same thing.

"Why is your nose bleeding?"

"My doctor says it's probably emotional, I don't know. I've been taking some pills, but I don't think they'll do any good for my nose."

"Oh… did I upset you? Was that it?"

"No… no, it wasn't."

Freddie reassures me, but I can tell he is unsure. I don't know why I keep trying to make things harder for us, while he wants nothing but to make it easier. I guess it's my mind, still trying to prove me he's not different from the others. If I enrage him enough, he'll break and show the real him, who he really is. But what if this is who he really is? I've given him enough motives to be upset and want to hurt me, still he doesn't. It's time to accept he's not going to hurt me and start to give him more credit. For all he has done in these short two days, it's time to put some effort of my own into this relationship.

"Freddie…" I sigh, "I'm sorry, okay? I don't know why I keep acting this way, I guess I'm just waiting for you to lose your cool and…"

"That ain't happening."

Freddie doesn't let me finish, and even though he's not looking at me, I can tell he's slightly offended.

"I should know by now, but with my past experience… people can't be trusted. I'm sorry, but it's going to take me some time to get used to the fact you're not planning on hurt me. It's just… the people I've seen… married people, they're usually not like you, so it's going to take me some time to get used to it."

He stays quiet for a while. I can't help but to slap myself mentally for being such a bitch. He's trying his best to make this easier for us both, and I keep trying to make it worse. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I know I can't do this again. He hasn't given me reasons to doubt his good intentions, and besides my personal trusting issues, I have a good feeling about him.

_There's always someone different out there. One day you'll find someone that'll change your mind._

Maybe he's the one who's going to change my mind.

"It's alright, Sam. I know how you feel, and trust me, everyone within a mile from me I consider suspicious. Whenever I see a guy putting his hand on his back, or inside his jacket, I think it's a gun. This one time, I was at the work and this guy dropped a bucket full of stones on the floor. When my co-workers looked for me, I was under the table. I'm always waiting for the next hit, I know how you feel."

He smiled, and I returned his gesture. It makes me feel bad he's so broken, and so damaged. I wiped his nose clean, and when he went to lift his head up, I took another tissue and pressed against his nose. I wasn't ready to stop looking at his face yet.

"Just to be sure." I tell him.

"Okay." He sighs and closes his eyes.

There's something about his brows that I like so much. The shape, or the color, perhaps both. But I like his brows and how the start a little after his eyes, and how they don't stop where his eyes end. Especially, I like how they're not too thick and going everywhere like most men. It's like they're perfectly shaped, handmade, but not like my mother used to do when I was a kid. His nose is too cute, too well placed and too perfect. Although, if you look at the bridge, you can see it was broken a few times, still it remains perfectly placed where it should be. Not too small, not too big. And his lips are… well… alluring, although I try not to think about it too much. But my favorite part of him, his eyes, are closed and I can't see them.

"I think I'm good." He murmurs.

"Oh… okay." I remove the tissue from his face. "You should really wash that. Go to the bathroom while clean this mess."

He nods, and leaves, probably fearing I was going to wrestle for the tissues as well.

"I'm so stupid." I whisper to myself after he leaves. "I've got to learn how to behave myself."

I really have to. I don't him to think I'm such a bitch.

"Are you ready?" Freddie asked me, breaking my track of thought.

"Yeah. Sure, let's go."

I dump the last piece of bloody paper on the trash can, looking one more time at it, before following him out of the house and into the car. I've got to start putting some effort into this too. Maybe I'll begin tonight. At our date.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Hey guys, I'm sorry about the crap chapter but I was so busy today! I promise to write a better one Monday. I forgot to tell, I don't update on weekends, because that's family time! But Monday to Friday I'm good to go! I just want to let everyone know that this will have some lemons, that's why is rated M. And with the time you'll hear Freddie explaining how messed up the war was, how they threw everyone who could shoot into the battlefield and how marines, air force, army and navy were so disorganized. _

_**Parreth – **__Two of my cousins and my uncle are on air force, but that's as far as it goes. Anything I know about war came right from history classes and movies like __**Saving Private Ryan, Pearl Harbor**__ and others. I don't know much about the marines, so I just picked the army. When I think about war, I think about the army, so I guess it was the first thing that came to my mind._

* * *

><p><em>Snow Patrol - It's Beginning To Get To Me<em>


	7. Let The Flames Begin

**Genre:** _Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary: **_They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired by, this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast.**_

* * *

><p><em>(This chapter is one both Sam and Freddie's POV)<em>

-Freddie-

* * *

><p>Sometimes I think she's trying to make me mad, just to prove I'm a monster. My guess, is that she's trying to prove herself I can't be trusted. Maybe it's a defense mechanism, and I don't blame her, because I do exactly the same, I'm always waiting for the enemy to be the person next door. With her though, I don't feel this way, I thought that I was going to sleep with one eye open because she was a stranger, but no. Somehow I trust her. Coming from me, Mr. Trusting Issues, that says a lot.<p>

In my mind, she's like a big challenge, that at first, I was forced to accept, but now it's just something I wanna do. I want to figure her out, learn her inside out and make her see that I can't, and I won't, hurt her. She's a big mystery, just like the puzzles my mom used to solve when I was a kid… well, not like that but a mystery altogether. Two things I know for sure, one, she's strong, two, she's scared. Something happened that scared her, but also made her need to be strong, and cautious. I can relate, in some level. Although, I can tell, she's caring, and somewhere deep inside, sweet, but that's a side she won't show you, unless you deserve it. I want to deserve it, not only because it will make life easier for both of us, but also because I just want to.

Earlier, when she was taking care of my nose, I could assure it was out of guilt. She thought she had something to do with it, then she went there and fixed it. That shows how human she is, she's a good person, and that she doesn't hate me altogether. But for whatever the reason, I could feel her eyes on my face, locked on me like she wanted to take a mental image of my features. It can't be because I'm attractive, because I'm not, I'm broken and covered in battle scars, there's nothing attractive about that. My skin is covered in old burns and bullet holes, not soft and smooth like I image hers should be. I'm damaged and covered bruises, I don't even look at myself in the mirror to avoid being disgusted, because I can't avoid the memory of how each wound got there and why.

Why would she want to look at me? Perhaps, she's trying to get used to what she'll have to face every day for the rest of her life. If a person tells herself she can do something many times, she'll end up believing it eventually. If only my doctor could hear me right now, he would say; _Freddie, did you take your pills? _I have a set of colorful pills for my mood swings, rage and depression, they supposed to keep me from hating myself too much, but they only work sometimes. Most days, when I feel this way, nothing can help me, but a good night of sleep and I don't think I'll get that anytime soon in that couch.

Pushing aside my self-pity, self-hate, self-disgust, anger and guilt, I try to concentrate in Sam, who's been taking long breaths every now and then, probably trying to keep it cool in her first day. We arrive at her new working place, and I park the car in front of the bakery. She's nervous, but she won't say. I wish I could find the right words to make her relax at least for a while. I know the pressure first times can have, and I wish I could do something to ease that for her, but I don't know what to do. Sam was sitting by my side, taking silent breaths, I shift my body, so I'm almost facing her. I put my hand on her shoulder, and at first she was startled, then she began to relax significantly, exhaling.

"Hey, don't be nervous." I try to be as gentle as I can muster. "I'm sure you'll do great."

"And how the hell can you know that?"

She freaked out for a little, but I could tell she didn't mean to scream at me, so I decided to share some secret with her.

"It helps when you count to ten, from backwards."

Sam gave me this look, that said _are you serious, _but something made her change her mind, so she closed her eyes and started to count. At the end, she sighed and rubbed her temple with her thumb.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. You were just trying to be nice and I…"

I stopped her, putting my hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay, Sam, really."

"It's just… ugh, this is so frustrating. What if I screw up?"

"On my first day at work, I was freaking out really bad. I dare say you look very calm close to what I looked like. It was so bad I started to sweat. I thought for sure I was going to screw up and get my ass fired…" she giggled.

I. Just. Made. Her. Giggle. I feel like I'm the king. I had to stop myself from throwing my fist in the air, and let her know how ridiculously proud I feel of myself right now. Quickly picking up where I left off, I managed to slap myself mentally for being such a girl.

"I ran to the bathroom, locked the door, and started to repeat to myself. _You can do this, Freddie! Man up and do this. You're not a pussy are you? No? Prove it! Go out there and do your fucking best!_ And it worked. I'm still working there and it's been seven months."

I looked back at her, after the ridiculous impersonation of myself, and saw she was laughing like I've just told the funniest joke. I've never been funny, not even as a kid, but she's laughing now, probably of how ridiculous I am. What the heck? A laugh is a laugh.

"Besides the _lock myself in the bathroom _thing, I guess I can take the advice."

"Great. Just think you can do this if you keep telling yourself you can make it. Because I know you can."

"Thank you, Freddie."

I smile and lock my eyes with hers for a moment, and she didn't look away. My God, she's gorgeous. Her eyes are like the sky, dark blue and intense, the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. My gaze drops to her pretty nose, and down to her heart-shaped lips. They seem so soft, and hand made by the angels, I wonder how they must feel like between mine. I wonder how they must taste like, I wonder if she even knows how to kiss. Did she ever have a boyfriend? Or a man? I didn't ask that, maybe I can do it tonight. I got lost into the moment, because we're definitely having a moment, since she didn't look away. In fact, I think she got just as lost on me as I am on her. But everything that's good has to end. She finally came to her senses, looked away and cleared her throat awkwardly; still, I call that progress.

"Thank you for driving me."

"No problem. Do you want me to pick you up?"

"No need, I kind of memorized the path, I guess I'll just walk home. Besides, I get out an hour before you, so…"

"Okay. For anything you need, my office is over there." I point her to the second tallest building in the city. "You can come and talk to me anytime you want. I'm on the 12th floor."

"Sure, I'll do that. Thank you Freddie… I uh… see you tonight."

I wait until she is inside the bakery to move again. Just to make sure she's good, and won't need me. Before she got into the stone building, Sam looked back at me for a moment and gave me a nervous smile, which made me nervous. I hope she is okay on her first day, and that she'll have a good time, but I can't wait for this day to go by soon, so I can take her out on a date.

* * *

><p>-Sam-<p>

* * *

><p>For a moment out in there, I got lost into his eyes. They are so weirdly beautiful. They are brown and there's supposed to be nothing special about them, but it is. They're so intense and warm; they make me feel all dizzy just looking at them. I hope he didn't realize I was staring at him too much, because that would be very embarrassing. And speaking of embarrassing, I just got into the bakery for my first day at work, and it's empty. What am I supposed to do?<p>

I walk to the counter and ring the little bell just sitting on top of it. I ring it twice, before I hear some noises in the back. I clutch at my purse, but don't dare go behind the counter; I don't wanna seem like a meddler on my first day. Inside the bakery is very interesting, the décor reminds me of this Italian neighbor I had.

"Hello? Is anybody here?" I call.

More noises coming from the back door.

"Hello? I'm Sam… Samantha I'm starting today… is anybody here?"

More noises, then finally someone reply me.

"_Hey! Wait just a second!"_

I wait until an old lady dressed in the exact same clothes as I am, walks out the door and stands behind the counter. She is two inches shorter than me, and wears big glasses. She seems nice, but nothing is ever what it seems.

"Hello there," she greets me, "you're the new baker, huh?"

"Yes. I'm Sam Benson. I'm here for my first day."

"Good, good. Visualize people called me, but they didn't say if you had any experience."

"Well, I… not much. I can cook, but I never baked bread."

"Toby is going to teach you. What else can you do?"

"Uh… lunch, breakfast and dinner."

"Great. Well, go on, into the kitchen and help Toby set up the breakfast. Costumers are going to be here in half an hour for breakfast."

"Sure."

"Here is your key, for the locker where you're going to put your stuff. There's a hairnet," she handed me a black hairnet, "cover your hair with it, so it won't fall on the food. Wash your hands with soap and you can get started. I'm Meg, you can ask me if there are any doubts."

"Thank you." I nod and she points to the door she just came out of.

I'm inside the kitchen, and honestly I've never seen so many ovens before. There's a girl frying eggs, with her backs turned to me. I can tell its eggs because of the smell. I walk gingerly towards her, ready to ask where is Toby.

"Hey, excuse me? I'm looking for Toby."

"I'm Toby." She says from over her shoulder. "You must be Samantha."

"Sam. I'm Sam. Meg said I should come and look for you."

"Sure." She scratches her neck and goes back to frying her eggs. "Put your stuff over there."

She points me to the lockers with a frying pan full of eggs.

"Wash your hands, cover your hair and get over here so we can start."

My locker is number 4, it's small, but it's enough to fit my purse, jacket and gloves. Covering my hair with a hairnet is hard, because I have so much hair, but I managed to put it all safely into the net so I can get started. Toby is waiting for me by the ovens, she's taking off a fresh set of loaves of bread when I walk back into the kitchen. She's a tall, skinny girl, huge boobs, brown hair, with thin eyebrows and too much lipstick. She's chewing on something, gum probably, and she has this _I don't give a fuck _vibe about her.

"So. You need to learn how to bake bread, right?"

"Yeah. I don't really know for sure."

"I don't have time to explain right now, so you'll have to help me prepare the breakfast. We can do some work on your baking skills after lunch break."

"Alright?"

"Come here, help me fry some bacon and put the breakfast outside for the costumers."

I comply, not really happy, but when have I ever been? We set up the food outside for the costumers to serve themselves and walk back into the kitchen to make coffee. If only Freddie was here, he knows how to make great coffee, maybe I can get him to teach me. When we're back into the kitchen, there's a tall man, with too much beard inside, carrying some boxes into the freezer. He is too tall, and his face looks like it was taken from a cartoon. He's wearing a big gold necklace around his neck, and the hairnet leaves the tips of his brown hair exposed. He looks at us, and Toby groans and spits the gum she was eating for the past half an hour or so, into the trash can over the counter.

"Sam, this is Markus, he does the deliver, cleans and set up the bistro tables outside every day. Markus, this is the new baker, Sam."

"Nice to meet you, pretty lady."

He was an accent, Ukrainian perhaps, and his voice is funny. He walks over to us, shaking his hips too much. I don't know if he's trying to be seductive, or ridiculous, either way, I'm going with ridiculous. He's so freakish tall, that when he's right in front of me, he was to bend to look at me. Markus tries to take my hand in his, but I take a step back, not allowing him any contact.

"Relax, cutie pie. I'm harmless."

"Yeah, he is." Toby snorts. "Leave her alone, Markus. Go do your work."

He reaches for Toby's hand as kisses it, she pushes him out of the kitchen and wipes her hand on her uniform.

"Don't worry about him, he's a harmless jackass. Now let's get to work."

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><p>I do a lot of things in and out of the kitchen. Meg teaches me how to work the register, how to use the coffee machine and how to serve the costumers. She explains the menu and every food we have in here. She tells me I can leave by six thirty, after the bread is done, because her daughter helps her with the last sales and the bakers are not needed if the bread is already made. Meg also teaches me about hygiene and the rules of the establishment.<p>

Our lunch break is around two o'clock. Toby explains to me we don't serve lunch, only breakfast and dinner. She gives me five minutes to eat, which I don't appreciate, and starts to teach me the basics of how to bake, how to make dough and the proper way to knead it. It's simple and fun, and I have to confess I was not expecting this to be somewhat amusing. Punching the dough is kind of relaxing. Still, I can't get my mind off tonight, my first date. I don't want to say I'm excited for it, but I'm not completely nonchalant about it. I don't know what to do, or to wear, or how to behave, and I'm afraid I'm going to ruin it somehow.

"Samantha?" Meg pokes her head in the kitchen.

"Yes." I say, while making dough.

"Your husband is here."

Freddie is here? What is he doing here? Did something happen?

"Oh… okay, I'll be right out."

I go over to the sink to wash my hands, and Toby follows me.

"Husband is here?"

"I have no idea what he might be doing here."

"Is he one of those control freaks that wants to know where you are and when?"

"No… he's not."

"Oh." She seems surprised. "Then maybe he's just here to see how you're doing on your first day."

"I don't know… maybe."

That seems so thoughtful, and maybe truth, but I don't have time to think about it, I just dry my hands I start to walk out of the kitchen.

"Well, do you mind if I go there with you? I kind of like to see how people were paired up, and see who got a nice one."

"Sure. Okay…" I say, awkwardly. "You're married?"

"Yep." She shrugs and follows me out of the kitchen.

Freddie is behind the counter, hands in his pockets looking around awkwardly. I cleared my throat and he finally landed his traveling eyes on me.

"Hey." He greeted me with a lopsided smile, that made my knees a little weak.

"Hi. You're here. Is there something wrong?"

"No, no." he waved his hands and put them back on his pockets. "Not at all. Sometimes I just come here to eat, and I wanted to know how you're doing."

"Wait…" Toby said from behind me. "So, Freddie is your husband?"

"Yeah… do you know him?"

"Yeah, he eats here sometimes. So, they got you hitched too, huh pretty boy?" She put her hand on her hips with a smirk.

_Pretty boy?_ What the hell?

"Uh… yeah. Hello to you too Toby. How's Jeremy?"

"Ah, Germy is fine."

"Germy?" I asked.

"My husb. He's sick all the time, so I call him Germy now. He's recovering from a flue, though."

"Ah, give him my get well wishes. So, Sam…"

"Uh, I'm going to give you lovebirds some space, have fun. And if you need, you can use the bathroom, I won't even tell." She smirked.

I felt my cheeks going pink. I didn't know for sure what she meant, but I had an idea. And that makes me rub my neck and look down at my feet.

"Thanks Toby, there's no need." Freddie answers for me.

After she leaves, I realize I'm tapping my foot on the floor with my hands are on my waist. They know each other because he is a costumer, but I don't see a plausible reason why she should be allowed to have that sort of intimacy with a costumer. Calling him _pretty boy… _why would she have this kind of intimacy with _my_ husband? Isn't that forbidden or something?

"Hey… so how was the first day?"

"It's still going, so how about I tell you later?" I shouldn't sound so harsh, I didn't mean it, but whatever.

"Oh…" He looks quizzically at me, then smiles a little. "Well, how are things so far?"

"Good. I was learning how to bake bread." I say, playing with my apron and looking anywhere but at him.

"How was that?"

"Nice. But I'm still learning, so…"

"So? So far, so good?"

"Yeah. Can I get you anything?"

"Oh, sure… a piece of apple pie and a coffee is good."

"Okay. Do you want to go sit over there and I take it to you?"

"No need. I can just stay here in the counter."

Freddie shrugs and sits on the bench, elbows on top of the counter, hands supporting his head as he smiles cheekily. He kind of looks like a little boy, a cute little boy. I shake my head and go get him a piece of pie and a coffee. Meg is not in the counter anymore and Toby is in the kitchen, I wonder if the purposely left. I put the pie and the coffee in front of him, and don't know what else to do with myself. Should I keep him company or should I go back into the kitchen? Should I make conversation? I've never been the type of person to get lost for words, so why whenever I'm around him I never know what to say? Why am I even looking for the right words?

We don't talk. He eats silently, occasionally smiling at me, and I try to busy myself with the incoming costumers. Ten minutes later, when he's done, he walks over the register to pay for what he ate. I tell him the price and reach for the money, touching his hand by accident. Before I can retrieve my hand, he moves his fingers further up and rubs the back of my hand with his thumb, wrapping his fingers around mine and the money. Is such a tender gesture, even though his fingers are rough with calluses. This shouldn't be a big deal, he's my husband and he can do a lot more than just touch my hands, but I feel my stomach tightening, and I swallow hard, somehow making my throat even drier.

"Have a good day Sam."

As soon as he leaves me, I feel cold. He held my hand before, but I was wearing a glove, so I didn't get to feel his skin, not like now. The skin of his hand is thick, just like you should expect from a soldier, but also incredibly delicate and careful at the same time. They, his fingers, were warm, and his touch was gentle, light and caring.

"Now it's when you put the money inside the cash register." Toby says, from behind me.

"Oh… I know…"

I snap out of my thoughts get on with my work. She's smirking again and I wonder if there's a limit to people's abilities to smirk.

"You've got a nice one, you know?"

"Yeah." I say, turning my back to her and going inside the kitchen.

"You don't have to be jealous; I'm just messing with you!" She laughs.

"I'm not jealous!"

"Sure, whatever you say blondie. But Freddie is super nice, and you're lucky to have a handsome one. You should see my Germy. Poor thing, but he does all the cleaning in the house to compensate the lack of sexual appeal." She winks playfully at me.

I don't answer; I just go on with my work. Doesn't matter what she thinks, I wasn't jealous, just not too comfortable with the way she talked to him, that's all. And only because it's forbidden to flirt outside the marriage, and I didn't want to get into any kind of trouble.

* * *

><p>It's six o'clock when I'm leaving work. I say goodbye to everyone and walk my way back home. My feet move a little too quickly, as if they want to get there fast. The whole walk back home I'm thinking, I'm always thinking. I only have an hour to get ready and I have no idea of what to wear, nor did I ever put makeup on my face. I need help getting ready for this, so I don't have look so bad for my date. There's only one person I can ask for help… so I pass my house and knock on her door.<p>

"Hey Sam, how was your first day at work?" She asks with a smile. My God she's perky!

"Good. Carly… I need some help."

"Sure, with what?"

"I… uh… I have a date tonight… and I don't know how to dress… or do makeup… can you help me?"

"Of course I can. Let's go to your house and make you prettier."

I hope she can manage that in an hour. I remember that my mother took several hours to get ready for a date, and I didn't have the time. I needed to be perfect in one hour, before Freddie got home. I wanted to look pretty for him, on our date.

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><p><em>Paramore - Let The Flames Begin<em>


	8. Give In To Me

**Genre:** _Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary: **_They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired by, this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast.**_

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><p><em>(No POVs in this chapter)<em>

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><p>Freddie left work around seven. Many of his co-workers asked why he was on a hurry to go back home, some of them even joke about him being able to finally get some, now that he was married. Freddie was a nice guy, most times he would joke around and make conversation with his colleagues, but his private life was off limits. There was no way he would stop to explain he was overly excited about his first date with Sam. And more embarrassing than that, would be explaining to them he wasn't <em>getting some, <em>he was getting nothing, not even a decent night of sleep in that damned couch. So, he laughed and said he had to leave, no further conversation was made as he entered the elevator and practically ran to his car.

Sam said she would walk home, and he shouldn't worry, but he passed by the bakery anyway, just to be sure. He somehow wanted to make sure she was home, safe. Freddie didn't mean to come by the bakery that afternoon, he didn't want her to think he was spying on her or anything, he just wanted to make sure she was okay. The excuses he used to fool himself were ridiculous,_ she can burn herself in that oven, she can cut herself with a knife, she could drown into the sink, _and so it goes. Thank God he had been to the bakery before, finding a more acceptable excuse to tell her.

She seemed to be doing okay; he concluded during his visit, he was just being extra paranoid. Really, who drowns on a kitchen sink? Despite of being a little nervous, she seemed alright that afternoon, almost like she was in her atmosphere. He couldn't explain it if he tried, but something about seeing here there seemed right. Freddie rushed, and in matter of minutes he was home. The house was surprisingly quiet, the kitchen was dark, but the living room was bright. He walked in slowly, making his way up stairs. On the second floor things were different, it didn't hold the same silence, and the corridor was bright, despite the fact the doors were all closed.

Freddie could hear a weird noise coming from the master bedroom, and wondered if Sam was on the shower or something. Only, that noise wasn't anything like water running, it was more like a vacuum, or a fan. Then, Freddie heard voices, two sets of voices, all feminine.

"_Stay quiet!"_

"_Ouch! It's hot!"_

"_Don't move, or it will burn you!"_

"_It sucks!"_

"_But you'll look amazing."_

The moody voice was definitely Sam's, this he knew for sure. She had a great voice, melodic and strong at the same time. He briefly recognized the other voice, it belonged to his neighbor, Carly. What were Carly and Sam doing together, alone in their room? Freddie never knew why women went together to the bathroom, or locked themselves in their room to do god knows what, and he never had the nerve to ask. Whatever it was, it couldn't be all good, because Sam keep complaining.

"Sam? Are you in there?" He knocked on the door and asked.

There were more noises, footsteps and the creaking sound of objects being pushed around. About a minute or so, Carly opened the door and put her head out.

"Hey Freddie! You're home early."

"I'm always home by seven…" He said, trying to peek inside the room, but Carly wouldn't let him.

"Well… why don't you go and take a shower. There are some clothes for you in the next room…" She smiled, but her voice sounded more like a command than a suggestion.

"Okay…? Is everything okay in there?"

Freddie tried to push the door open, but Carly put her full body weight, which wasn't much, to block the door. He could've easily pushed the door and Carly, but he took that as a _you can't see her yet _kind of message. Whatever the hell they were doing in there, he wasn't allowed to see, yet.

"Of course. When you're done, go wait for Sam downstairs."

Without arguing, Freddie obeyed and dragged himself to the nearest room. He grabbed a few clothes out of the top drawer and walked to the end of the hallway, where the other bathroom was. This bathroom was smaller than the bathroom on the master bedroom, and Freddie kind of missed that particular spot of the house. He didn't like the feeling of being stuck in small spaces, it made him feel suffocated. He showered in a hurry to get out of there and changed quickly, almost gasping for air when he opened the door. Something about being buried alive made him desperate for fresh air, open spaces and windows.

* * *

><p>He didn't know for sure if Carly was gone, when he passed by the room, there was no noise. He couldn't stop tapping his feet on the floor while waiting, he was nervous and couldn't sit still if his life depended on it. Freddie went to the kitchen, served himself a glass full of water, that he didn't drink and ended up tossing on the sink. He didn't normally wasted water or any food, it was something he learned during the war, but he was too nervous. For the first time in his life, he felt like the teenage boy that he was, and not like a scarred adult, he felt like a teenager nervous for prom. Freddie had only eighteen years of age, but his soul was older than a millennium.<p>

"Freddie?" Carly appeared on the kitchen door, waving at him.

"Hey…"

"I'm leaving now. Good luck on your date!"

She smiled, he thanked politely and she left. Freddie walked out of the dark kitchen and leaned against the wall, in front of the stairs. He kept toying with the sleeves of his v-neck sweater, now understanding why Sam played so much with her clothes. It kept her hand occupied, and her mind from running a mile a minute. Freddie sighs, and hears the noises of steps on the stairwell. When he looks up, the sight his eyes catch almost makes his heart stop beating on his chest.

He never saw a real angel before, just the ones in books and paintings, but they didn't do justice, to the heavenly meaning the name they carry supposed to have. Sam, though, it's almost like the name should belong solely to her, and no one else. Her locks were long gone, the golden and thick locks, were replaced by straight strands cascading down her shoulders. Too bad, he thought, he liked her hair just the way it was. She's wearing a white dress, with a blue lacy bow around her waist. He can tell she's wearing makeup; her nails are painted with white nail polish, she has pink lipstick making her sweet looking lips glow, and her eyes are bigger and bluer than usual, due the makeup. Freddie was amazed, but if he could choose, if he had a say so in this, he would prefer her without the makeup. Without it she looked raw, real, and he liked that because it distinguished her from every other woman he ever met. But right here, and now, he was mesmerized.

Sam had to bite down on her bottom lip, to stop herself from laughing. Freddie's mouth was hanging open, his hands long forgotten by the sides of body, and his eyes were slightly wide. At first, she freaked out a bit, because, well, she didn't know how he would react to this, but after a few more moments, of him trying to mumble something, Sam took that reaction as a good thing. She could tell, he was impressed, a bit shocked, but yet, very impressed. He didn't look so bad too. The v-neck black sweater made his arms bigger, his shoulders broad and his chest just… it just hugged it really well. He was wearing dark jeans and sneakers, and for the first time since she saw him for the first time, he truly looked like a teenage boy. And he looked, again, that thing she didn't know what the name was, the one beyond cute, and deeper than handsome.

And she felt like a teenage girl, so nervous, yet so ridiculously excited. After he didn't move, or talk, she started to feel a little self conscious and irritated. She spent the last hour letting Carly yank all the hair out of her body, straightening her curly hair over and over again, stuffing her face with makeup and giving her a shower of perfume, and he said nothing? That was a little bit irritating if you asked her. She couldn't understand he was too amazed to find the right words to say, or remember his middle name, for that matter.

"So?" She blurt out, crossing her arms against her chest. "Are you going to stay there and stare at me forever?"

_Can I? _He thought.

"Oh… no… sorry… let's… uh… go." He cleared his throat and waited for her to climb down the stairs.

Freddie hurried once she was on the same floor he was, and opened the door for her. He remembered a few things from his mother's lesson of how to be a gentleman, and from how his father used to behave. Freddie Benson knew he should respect, cherish, and be gentle to women. He knew he was supposed to open doors, pull chair and buy flowers for ladies, and even after some of the women he had been with, proved they didn't have respect for themselves, he still did what he should. Because he should.

Sam never had anyone opening doors for her. That was an understatement. She found herself kind of liking, the way he hurried past her to open the door, and close it behind him. It was good because she didn't have to make any physical effort, besides walking, and it also felt… nice. Gentle of him to do something extremely unnecessary for her. She could get used to that, pretty quick.

Freddie didn't tell her where they were going, and she didn't really mind asking, they were going to get there anyway. She, however, took her time to look out the window, getting to know better the place she was going to live forever. Freddie had to mentally slap himself a few times, to keep his eyes on the road, instead of glued on her. She looked so stunning, and took a lot not to stare at her constantly. He thanked God, Brad had indicated him a nice place to take her, or else he would probably take her to the diner on the other side of the neighborhood. And she wasn't dressed up for that, it would've been embarrassing to let her think he chose a stinky diner for their first date because he didn't care.

He actually never been to this restaurant Brad mentioned, but he drove by a couple of times. For what Brad mentioned, the place would make justice to her beauty, but wouldn't compare. Freddie felt so incredibly nervous, but it was plausible, since he was taking a beautiful girl out on a date. He wondered if he could kiss her by the end of the night, but he didn't want to seem too bold or do something she wasn't ready for. If, by the end of the night, she felt more comfortable around him, he could try something. Kiss her hand perhaps, it wasn't too much and it wasn't anything. He was just dying to put his lips on her, any part of her.

"Here we are." He announced.

"It's a cliff." She stated, alarmed.

"I know." He grinned.

"We're going to have dinner on a cliff?" She asked, suspiciously.

"See that?"

He pointed at a huge house, made of wood and glass, with pretty lanterns hanging under the ceiling.

"Yeah."

"That's the restaurant. The tables are behind it, on the edge of the cliff…" he explained, and she eyed him suspiciously again, "don't worry; we're not going to fall."

Sam was uncertain of this, it all seemed too suspicious. A restaurant on the edge of a cliff, seemed way too weird for her. However, the location wasn't half bad, she could see the moon light, there were lanterns everywhere, decorating the place, so it wasn't dark, there were flowers and trees, and she could hear a sound that probably came from the ocean water colliding against the cliff. It was kind of… _romantic_, or whatever _romantic_ meant.

"Sam…?"

Freddie put his finger under her chin, and turned her head towards his, sending shivers down her spine with one single touch. Sam gasped silently, recomposing herself quickly because his face was so, so close. His eyes were much more intense from this distance, too brown, too deep, too pretty. She had to grip her dress tightly, to keep under control. He was so close… her heart was pounding like crazy against her chest.

"Can you trust me?" He whispered.

She could feel his hot, peppermint, breath against her face. His eyes were so alluring; she couldn't say no if he asked her to jump off the cliff. Sam didn't know what was with this boy that made her so weak in the knees. Sure, he was handsome, but she never cared about that before, it had to be something else. She wasn't easy to convince and she didn't trust strangers, but somehow, here, right now, she trusted him. Freddie Benson was the first man she trusted, she couldn't deny him this.

"Yes." She whispered back, just as intently as he did before.

"Thank you." He murmured.

Freddie smiled and pulled away from her, almost groaning because he had to do that. He exited the car, and before she could reach for the door, he hurried and opened it up for her. Freddie offered his hand, telling her the ground was uneven and she was wearing heels. But the truth was, he just wanted to hold her hand, and she allowed him, keeping her hand is his, letting him wrap his fingers around hers.

They approached the restaurant, and she could see the familiar V carved on the wood. That made her gulp a little, she didn't trust anything that came from Visualize, and mostly because she remembered the last time she had made contact with them. They threw rules and laws against her face, and shove a life she didn't want down her throat.

_It could have been worse. _Sam thinks to herself, looking at Freddie, and down at their joined hands. _I can't think of much that could be better than this._

"Welcome to Paradise, do you have a reservation?" Asked the nice lady in the black dress.

The woman was tall and long legged, curvy and sensual. Sam looked down at her white dress and simple heels, and felt a little embarrassed. She wished Freddie would just read her mind, and tell her she was way prettier than this woman in front of them, but that wasn't going to happen. Why was she always wishing for things that would never happen?

"Yes, Benson, table for two." Freddie's voice broke her line of thought.

"Alright…" said the woman, checking the reservation book, "please follow me Mr. and Mrs. Benson."

Freddie smiled a little. He knew they were Mr. and Mrs. Benson, but now it felt like it. The woman took them to the green table close to the edge of the cliff. He felt Sam gripping his hand a little tighter, and had to smile at how adorable he found that she was scared of heights. He turned to her, to whisper in her ear.

"Don't worry, you won't fall. I won't let you."

She nodded, but gripped at his bicep with her free hand while they walked there. She didn't mean to, but she was freaking out a little, she didn't like height. His muscles were so strong, and firm… he was definitely that word she couldn't find, the one way, way beyond handsome. She reluctantly had to let go, when they reached the table, and she had to stop herself from looking down. Of course there was a thick glass separating them from falling down the cliff, but she still felt a little shaky about it.

_Don't worry, you won't fall. I won't let you._

His words echoed on her head, and she took a deep breath, deciding to just relax and enjoy the night. Thankfully, it was warm inside, so she could lose the gloves and jacket. Summer was just around the corner and she couldn't wait for it.

"Here are your menus; the waiter is going to come here in a minute." She said, and departed. Sam's ego thanked her for leaving.

"It's nice here." She said.

"I was hoping you would like it." His eyes were trained to the menu, but he was smiling.

"So? Uh, what should we order?"

"Whatever you like, just find something you like and order it. Don't worry about the money; I can afford pretty much everything in this menu."

"I think I already know." She said after a while.

"Good." He motioned to the waiter to come to them.

"Have you decided?" The waiter asked.

"Yes. For the entry I would like red hot chicken wings and for the main dish I would like porterhouse." Sam said idly.

"Yes ma'am. And you sir?"

"I'll go with the same. And get me the finest bottle of wine you have."

The waiter scribbled on his notebook, collected the menus and left.

"You like wine?" Freddie asked.

"I never had it…"

"Great, I'll be happy to be the person who introduced you to it." He smiled largely.

"So? Why did you choose the same thing I did?"

"It seemed like a good choice to me. Now… do you want to talk?"

"That's the main reason why we are here, right?"

"Yes…"

"But I'm not very good at it… do you wanna start?"

"Sure… uh… you can ask me any questions and I'll answer it."

"Okay…" She stopped to think for a while, before coming up with a question. "What's your favorite color?"

He smiled, thanking God she decided to start with a light subject.

"Blue. What's yours?"

"Brown."

"I would never had guessed." He chuckled.

"Why?"

"It's just… most girls don't usually like this sort of color." He said matter-of-factly.

"I'm not like most girls."

"Don't I know it…?" He grinned, and she grinned back. "Why brown though?"

"Sorry, not your turn anymore." She shrugged.

"So, now we are taking turns?" Freddie asked, amused.

"Yes. And it's mine now." She nodded, smirking triumphantly.

Sam was proud of herself for dodging the bullet. Until five minutes ago she didn't have a favorite color, it never seemed important to choose one before. Now that she looked at his eyes so closely, she found herself very fond of brown.

"Go ahead then."

"What's your favorite food?"

"Uh… Chinese. I just love it."

"I never ate it."

"Really?" He asked in disbelief.

"Yeah." She shrugged like it was no big deal.

"Alright, I have to take you to this small Chinese restaurant down town, so you can prove it. I'm telling you Sam, it's the best food ever!"

"Okay, I guess." She smiled at his excitement. "Your turn."

"Why brown?" He insisted.

"Chocolate." She came up with the first lie that popped into her head. "I love chocolate."

"Great reason. What's your favorite food?"

"Bacon, ham, fried chicken. I can't really choose one." She shrugged.

Freddie chuckled, looking away from her for a moment, when the waiter reached their table.

"Here is your appetizing sir."

He set up the plate in the middle of the table, and showed Freddie the bottle of wine he picked.

"That will do." Freddie said, smelling the wine.

The waiter left, as Freddie served the wine for Sam and himself.

"How can you know how to do it?" Sam asked.

"Do what?"

"Know if the wine is good, only by smelling it."

"Well, when I was in Italy, during the war, my captain found this abandoned vineyard, and stayed the night to rest. He knew a lot about wine, so he taught me a bit. I was the only one interested anyway, the others only wanted to sleep, but I couldn't. I was fourteen when I had my first sip of wine, and I don't consider myself an alcoholic, but I do enjoy wine."

Sam looked down at her plate when he mentioned the war. Freddie felt a little uncomfortable to bring up such painful subject.

"Why don't you try it?" He offered.

"Yeah… why not?" She shrugged and took a little sip from the glass.

"So?"

"It's good." She grimaced. "A little bitter, but good."

"It's only your first time, you'll learn to enjoy it more with the time."

* * *

><p>They dove into the chicken wings, learning a bit more about each other. By the time dinner was on the table, Sam and Freddie were laughing nonstop of his first time riding a bike and how he fell with his face on the floor and broke a tooth and his mother freaked out.<p>

"I've been meaning to ask…" She said, between giggles, "How did you get that moon shaped scar under your chin?"

"Oh…" Freddie rubbed his fingers against the scarred skin under his chin. "Well… that was a long time ago, when I was seven. I was trying to climb up the kitchen counter to get a cookie my mother wouldn't let me have. My hands were too small, so I slipped and hit my chin against the edge of the counter. That was the first time I really went to the hospital for a serious reason. I got stitches and everything."

She chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Sorry… that sounds a little bit less heroic than what I expected."

"Oh, I'm sorry if my childish adventure isn't heroic enough for you, Mrs. Benson." He laughed.

Her laugh stopped, and she looked down. Was it possible to ever get used to this name? Could she ever get used to this? And what if she couldn't? It was all too foreigner, too different and new, suddenly she was nervous again. Freddie moved his hand from where it was and covered hers. He liked her hands, they were so small, little a little girl's hand. He rubbed his thumb against her palm, and she'd lift her eyes to meet his.

"This is the first time I feel like my age." He starts. "I'm always worried about the next thing. I'm sitting around waiting for the next hit, for the person sitting next to me be a threat or something. But right here, right now, I don't have a care in the world. I wish I could make you feel as safe as I am feeling right now…"

"You do…" She whispered.

"Then let me keep doing it. I know this is all too weird, and new. Believe me, I wasn't pleased when they told me how my life was going to be, but you came along and that was… well, better than what I expected. All I'm asking is for you to let me be your friend, and maybe someday in the future, you can look back and say _well that wasn't so bad. _You don't have to put up your walls around me, nor do you have to act differently than who you really are. I think we can work on something, we can be great friends, but I want to be friends with you Sam, not the person you think you should be. You look really beautiful right now…"

She blushed hard, and he smiled before continuing on.

"But the girl I asked on a date wasn't covered in fancy makeup, and wearing heels, that I can tell, are hurting her feet. You have…" he approached her, using his free hand to caress her earlobe, "tiny burns from whatever the hell Carly did to your hair, and you don't need that. In fact, I'm a curly hair kind of guy. I like _your_ hair."

Sam put her hand above the one he used to cup her face, and sighed. His touch was like fire on her skin, it was electrifying, it was warm and comforting. Amazing. She bit down on her bottom lip and stared into his eyes. They could be friends… they could be a lot more than that. She had to be thanking God for the man they chose for her, he was caring, lovely and nice, what was she complaining about? He was her husband, and yet the only thing he was asking for was to be her friend, when he had the right to ask for much more. And he was… kind of cute.

"Thank you Freddie… but don't get all sappy on me, Benson…" She laughed, and he joined her. "I appreciate everything you said. And thank God, because I hated that weird thing Carly pressed against my poor hair. And I don't like heels, or makeup."

"I'm fine with it." He shrugged, and removed his hands from her. "And I promise not to get too soft on ya."

"Thank you for that… now can we please eat? Because I'm starving!"

"Sure, we can eat now."

* * *

><p>Her really wanted to ask her to dance, but he didn't know if would be okay with that. Maybe next time, he told himself, while opening the car door for her. He wished the radio stations were finished, so they could hear music, but then he remembered that somewhere in the car, was an old CD he kept. It was Coldplay's first album, he found, still intact, after war.<p>

"Do you want to hear some music?" He asked, eyes on the road.

"Yeah, that would be good."

"Alright. I found this CD, lying on the ground after war ended. To my surprise, it was still good, so I kept it." He showed her the CD before putting on the stereo.

"Coldplay? I've heard of this band back in the day."

"Nice. Well, let's hear it then, right?"

Freddie wished he had the guts to ask her more personal questions, but was okay with what he got. Those deep conversations could wait until a better time. Tonight was about fun, and being friends. Eventually, when they came to trust each other more, he would be glad to share intimate things with her, but not right now. They weren't quite ready for that.

"Oh… Look…!" Sam pointed out the window.

"What?"

"You said you would get me a bucket of fried chicken whenever I wanted… well, now it's your chance."

"Alright." He chuckled.

He got her a bucket of fried chicken and a peppy cola. She seemed thrilled with it, and by the time they got home, the bucket was empty. He didn't even bother that she didn't share with him, he was too busy watching her eat. He parked the car and opened the door for her, feeling giddy like a teenage boy. They were back home, and the evening was great, but Freddie didn't know what to do now, that they were home, alone.

Just like every other eighteen years old boy, he had hormones, and those hormones were begging for any kind of physical contact. He was so attracted to her, but he respected her more than anything, so the thoughts going through his mind, would stay in his mind, until the day she was okay with that.

The first thing Sam did when she got home, was removing her shoes. She sighed, the biggest, most relaxed sigh of all and walked into the kitchen to wash her hands and drink some water. Sam could hear Freddie pacing around the living room, he was nervous, and so was she. They went on a date, they knew each other better, perhaps now was time to consummate the marriage.

She couldn't lie and say she wasn't nervous, or scared, but it was Freddie, and he promised he would never hurt her. Sam took a deep breath and walked out of the kitchen, ready for anything. She kept telling herself everything was going to be alright, it wouldn't be too weird, she wouldn't cry in the middle of it, and he wouldn't hurt her. This was just something that had to be done, and she was glad she could do that with him of all people.

_He's going to take care of me. _

"Freddie?" She called.

"Yes?"

His jacket was long forgotten on the couch, and he tucked his hands inside his pockets nervously.

"Are you going upstairs?"

"Yeah, I kind of need a shower and my pajamas. Why?"

"Nothing, I was just asking. Are you going now?"

"Yeah…"

They awkwardly moved from side to side, deciding who should go first. Freddie motioned for Sam to go, she nodded and awkwardly climbed the stairs, occasionally looking over her shoulder to see if he was there. Once they were in front of her bedroom door, he smiled awkwardly, while she tried to figure out what his next move was.

"So?" She started.

"So?"

"Do you wanna…? Do you…? Do you wanna come in?"

"Come in…?"

_Uh-oh, there she goes again._ Freddie sighed and grabbed both of her hands in his.

"Sam, the evening was nice, but that doesn't change the fact we're still strangers."

"Don't you want me?" She asked, sheepishly.

"That's not the reason. I do, you're beautiful, funny, strong, brave. I think you're very attractive, but I only want to do this once we're both one hundred percent sure that's what we want. I wanna take it slow. Do you understand?"

She sighed, knowing this was a lost battle. In his mind, this was wrong, and doing this would be like hurting her, or raping her. Sam wanted to tell him it wasn't like that, but she part of her was thankful, she wasn't ready to go down that road yet.

"Okay."

"Alright." He smiled. "Goodnight, Sam."

Freddie took one of her hands to his lips and kissed it gently. She gasped, this time out loud, feeling little tingling sensations all over her fingers and toes, coming right up to the ends of her ears and making her heart jump.

"Goodnight." He repeated against her skin.

"Night…" She managed when he let go of her hand.

Freddie walked away towards the bathroom, and Sam walked into her room, closed the door and leaned against it, gripping the hand he kissed, and pressing against her crazy pumping heart.

_We can be friends, _she concluded, _we can be great friends._

* * *

><p><em>AN: Hey guys, I'm sorry I didn't update yesterday, I'm so sorry but I'm not feeling okay. I'm so sorry to say tomorrow I won't probably update either, not until I feel better. As you know, my chapters names come from my favorite songs, but I feel like I need to specify for you guys, so you can listen to these great songs. I'll edit the other chapters and put the names soon, and right now, I'm starting with this one._

* * *

><p><em>Faith Hill - <em>Give In To Me <em>_


	9. If Eyes Could Speak

**Genre:** _Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary: **_They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

* * *

><p>"So? How should we do this?" I ask her.<p>

"I don't know… do you have… uh… what's needed to… you know… do this?" She bites her lip, unsure.

"Yeah. I have some back in the workshop. The question is which color do you prefer?"

"Uh, I haven't thought about that yet."

"We can go out and buy some more." I suggest.

"Okay. We can… if you sure."

"I'm sure, Sam." I smile, rubbing her arm to assure her. "It's about damn time we put some color in this house."

"Yeah… these beige walls are driving me a little crazy." She chuckles, that adorable, sweet chuckle of hers.

"You got that right." I say, fishing for my wallet in between the couch's cushions.

"It's about time you stop sleeping on this couch, Freddie. It can't be comfortable."

"It's not that bad…"

She took one look at me, and she knew I was lying. It was fascinating how she learned to read me so well, my emotions, my expressions, my lies, everything. I could almost say we're starting to connect; it's true I guess… we're starting to share this… weird connection. For instance, the other day, when she came downstairs for breakfast, I could tell something was off. She insisted she was fine, but somehow I just knew. I pushed a little and she gave in, confiding on me, she said she had a nightmare, and instead of pushing me away she actually talked about it. Not about it, about the details of her dream, but she actually let me comfort her. Now, she's starting to read me, like a book.

"Come on, Freddie. I know it is. Why don't you sleep on one of the extra bedrooms?"

How do I explain this to her? _Oh, it's because these rooms are for the kids we have to have, but also the ones I don't want to?_ There's no good way to tell her I don't want kids, because we both know this needs to happen. And I don't want to make it even harder on her, by letting her know I don't want kids. When we have them, I don't want her to remember how I never wanted kids, I don't want her to think I won't love them, even if it's true.

"It's just… I don't know, doesn't feel right. But come on, let's go, let's buy some paint." I say, dodging the bullet in the best way I can and grabbing my jacket.

I know she didn't buy it, but she didn't say anything else.

It was Saturday, a week after our first date, and I can definitely say things are improving between us. We are talking more, laughing more and even joking a bit. Things are definitely looking up for us. I can't lie and say I'm not excited for what's next, a kiss maybe? Okay, let's not get ahead of ourselves here, but I don't know, can't a guy dream?

I offered to paint the living room because Sam came home in an awful mood. She was upset because of the classes down at the Community Center, apparently they teach women how to be great wives, and that wasn't Sam's thing. It was kind of funny, seeing her all worked up, cursing the teachers and stuff. And I knew the color in the living room annoyed the hell out of Sam, just like it irritated me, so I decided to improve her mood by painting the damn walls. I had a feeling this would be fun, just me and her, playing with paint and drinking lemonade all day. If things go as planned, we can maybe barbeque outside in the backyard and spend the rest of the day talking about our favorite TV shows from when we were kids.

Okay, okay, maybe I'm planning too much. Perhaps I should just let her rest and do the same, but I kind of want to spend time with her, fun time. We get into the car and drive silently to the construction warehouse. Truth is, I don't really care about which color we should pick, I just don't like beige. Everything in that damn house goes from beige to wood, so plain and boring. It was the standard colors where I worked, but that doesn't mean I liked them, or anyone else I know by the way.

"So? You really made all of these houses?"

"Not all of them, and I just draw and supervise the blueprints. Sometimes I supervise the constructions, but I don't actually build anything."

"Oh. I thought you kind of… you know, worked like a construction man or something."

"No…" I chuckle. "I don't think my right arm can handle this kind of action."

"Your right arm?" She asks, running her digits softly over my arm.

Her touch is soft, and careful, as if she's afraid to hurt me or something. It sends all kinds of good shivering feelings down my spine, and it feels very nice. Our eyes meet for a short period of time, and every single time this happens, I feel something warm inside my chest. And each time, it only grows stronger. Sam clears her throat and retrieves her hand. Too bad, I was enjoying it.

"Uh… well, that's my bad arm."

"What happened to it?"

"I'm ambidextrous, but I used to aim and shoot with my left arm, leaving the right arm to defend myself when I was in combat without anything else to protect myself. Bottom line, it broke three times and got shot once. It's not a very good arm. I wonder how it's still hanging."

I notice her discomfort, and quickly try to do something to clean the air.

"But I can only make good eggs with this one, so it has its perks. Besides, I can do pretty much everything, maybe not construction work every day, but eventually. I built the workshop we have on our backyard."

"I saw. It's funny, that little house on the backyard of our house." She snorts.

"Yeah, I know."

"What do you do in there anyway?"

"I draw, build some miniature houses and stuff."

"Like a dollhouse?" She smirks.

"No… yeah… well, a little, but it's for pure architecture purposes."

"Oh, right." She chuckles. "Freddie builds dollhouses!"

I stop at the red light, and glare at her, but she doesn't see because her eyes are closed and she is clutching her stomach, laughing her ass off. Nice, she's laughing at me… wait, she is actually laughing and it sounds beautiful. _Oh my God! I'm ridiculous!_

"Mock me if you will, but my hands are magical, they can build all sorts of things. Just so you know!"

"Ah… dollhouses."

"They are dioramas! Models for work!" I argue, but she just laughs away. I smile and keep driving.

* * *

><p>"Okay, if you can build all sorts of stuff, build me something. Not a dollhouse, because the last one I had burned." Sam says, while looking at paints. "I burned."<p>

"Why would you do that?"

"It was fun to watch it burn. I wanted to set fire on a tree, but my mother didn't allow me. The next thing I could find, that was made of wood was the damn dollhouse. I hated it anyway."

"Why?" I squint, looking at the painting catalogue.

"It was pink." She says flatly.

"Oh, I see." I chuckle. "Okay. I'll build you something much more extraordinary, give me four days."

"Fine. Four days."

"Great. Now, what do you think about… orange?"

"I like it, but for the whole wall? I don't know."

"Listen, just pick one, I'll be good with any color you choose. I'm going to look for brushes and I meet you here in a few. Okay?"

"Alright."

She seems unsure at first, looking from side to side, as if she doesn't want to be alone in here, but she agrees anyway. I put my hand on her shoulder and squeeze, lightly, reassuringly.

"I'll be right back Sam. Busy yourself with the painting shop. I'll be right back. You won't even miss me."

I see her nodding before I leave, saying something to herself in a low voice. Sometimes I'm so sorry for whatever the hell happened to her, and sometimes I'm thankful for not being the only paranoid freak here. Not that I think she's a paranoid freak, but you've got my point. Anyway, I have to leave her, there's this antique shop just around the corner from the warehouse and I want to get started on my gift for her tonight. It won't be a surprise if she sees it, so I hope she engages herself with the painting situation so I can go and buy what I need. I have pretty much everything I need back in the workshop, except for the main ingredient, some details and my tools.

Since that night, the first night with Sam, Brad took my tools and didn't return them. He was afraid I was going to do something stupid and dangerous with them, like hurt myself, or kill myself. I wasn't going to, but better safe than sorry, right? I walk as fast as I can, without alarming people, and spot the antique shop open for business. There's this old man that runs the shop, he's pretty nice and quiet, he seems lonely. In fact, he's the way I figured I would be at his age, before Sam came along.

He has his back turned to me when I walk in, doing something I don't care enough to know. The bell rings and he leaves whatever he's doing and fixes his glasses before looking at me dead in the eye.

"How can I help you?" He has an accent, French, probably German.

"I, uh, want to build something for my wife and I need…"

I list the things I need, and he gets them for me. Surprisingly, he's got everything that I need right here. When I'm paying for it, he seems to finally give into curiosity.

"How do you know how to build this?"

"My dad taught me. He made one for my mom, when I was little and he taught me how to do it."

That was truth. My dad made one for my mom when I was seven. It was a big surprise for her birthday, and that was the first secret I've ever kept. Those Sundays with my dad were a dear memory I kept in my head, all for myself. What I've learned those days, I'll never forget. He said to me _Freddie, when you're older, you'll meet a special girl and you'll be able to make one of those for her. It will be a special gift, so make sure you found the special girl to give this for_. If Sam is my special girl or not, I don't know yet, but she's the only girl I have, so she might as well be special.

"It's a pretty trick thing to make." He says.

"Oh, not so much. I can be delicate enough to work the paper."

I could be, I think. The war made me anything and everything, but delicate. My skin and hands are rough, there are more burnt and scarred patches over my body than any smoothness, but my hands can be precise and light.

"Alright. Here you go." He hands me the paper bags.

"Thanks." I take a final look at the old man, and leave.

Sometimes I just look at people and wonder how they got where they are and how life treated them. It's a little weird thing I developed when I was at war. I always wondered, always questioned, always thought about everything. Sometimes, I make up stories, for these people and for myself a little. This man, however, I cannot find a good story for him. Dead wife and kids? Cliché. Lost his memory in the war? Cliché. Never had a family. Cliché. Everything seems wrong and I can't find a story for him.

But that doesn't matter right now. I run back to the car, drop the bags under the driver's seat and go back to Sam. Before, I grab some random brushes to take with me so she won't suspect anything. I feel ridiculously giddy about this present for Sam, it started more as a dare, but I really want to do this for her. I never gave her anything, maybe I'll start now. The truth is, I really just want to see her face when she lay eyes on my fabulous handmade… gift.

"Hey, took you long enough…" She scowls and crosses her arms against her chest. "All this time to get… three brushes?"

"Well, uh… I kind of lost track of time looking at some… tiles for my next construction."

"The next dollhouse?" She chuckles.

"Whatever!" Now it's my turn to scowl. "So, what did you get there?"

"Turquoise. You like it? I think it would go really great if we paint the wood white." She shows me the can of paint. It looks heavy so I grab it from her.

"We can make a panel on the fireplace wall and leave the rest white. What do you think?" Sam suggests.

"Great idea."

"So, I've been meaning to ask." She hands me the other can of paint after taking the brushes from my hand. "What are you going to build me?"

"Oh missy, that's a surprise. So don't even try to get that from me, because you won't get anywhere!"

"Fine. But you should know, I hate surprises."

"Oh, this one you're going to like." I sure hope so. "Trust me."

"When are we going to paint the rooms? Or room."

"We could do it today, but what about next week? Next Saturday is good for you?"

"Let me check my calendar…" She presses the end of the brush against her bottom lip, and I become extremely jealous of the piece of wood. Ridiculous, I know.

"Yeah, I'm free."

"So? No major appointments next Saturday?"

"Nah, just the same old same."

"Okay." I laugh. "Let's get going then, and get this painting thing over with, maybe, if we're not too tired later, we can barbeque in the backyard."

"Really?" I love how her eyes light up the mention of meat, or just food in general.

"Yeah. Come on, let's pay for this."

* * *

><p>We get home and prepare the room for painting. I've done my share of painting in this life, but I'm not the best guy with a brush you'll find. Yes, I manage to paint a wall, I do, but anything else is beyond my abilities. Like a picture, I can't paint a picture to save my life, but I don't think Sam wants to paint details in the wall. I bought us two white jumpsuits, even though Sam said I looked stupid and dorkish with it. I don't mind she saying this, it's kind of funny actually. I always thought of myself as kind of a geek, to be fair, I was a hardcore nerd back in the day, so I don't mind her calling me dork.<p>

"Yep, it's real my friend. You look very stupid in it."

"Why thank you Samantha. You look very sexy yourself." I say, wiggling my eyebrows.

"Alright, alright." She laughs, but I can see the ghost of a blush in her cheeks. "Let's paint this bad boy."

"Let's."

I move the couch while she puts the papers on the floor. It's not like I read any of this Visualize bullshit, so I might as well just use it for something good. I hand Sam her brush, and pick up mine so we can start the work. The color she picked was nice, I like blue, so let's go with blue. Although turquoise is not the best shade of blue in my opinion, navy blue wouldn't look so good either.

About twenty minutes into the whole painting thing, I get thirsty, so I ask Sam if she wants something.

"Oh, I wouldn't mind drinking a cold lemonade."

"I don't know how to make lemonade." I announce, and she scowls at me. "Hey, I'm just saying."

"There's any soda in the fridge?"

"Yeah, I guess. I'll get you some."

"Not diet!" She yells over her shoulder.

"I got it!"

Winter is gone like the wind. The weather is pretty fucked after so many nuclear shits they dropped during war, so you never know when will be summer or winter, or spring, or whatever. It starts as a perfect day, and ends up with a motherfucking storm trapping everyone inside their houses. So it doesn't matter if right now it's hot, it can rain or snow at anytime. That's one of the things I hate the most about the war, this fucked up weather. I miss the time when you just knew it was December and the snow was coming very soon.

Me and my dad would wake up every morning of the first snow and go outside. We would open our mouths and let the first flakes come down on us. Call us crazy, but they actually tasted pretty good. Sweet memories pushed to the side, it's no time to reminisce my old life, I have to concentrate on the new one. I come back to the living room bringing Sam some soda, when I spot her on a ladder, trying to reach the highest corner of the wall. I came to find… cute, how short she is. She's like this little doll that can surprise you and kick your ass anytime.

She's trying so hard to get there, it seems funny, how much effort she's putting just to reach the damn corner. I try not to laugh, I don't want her to think I'm mocking her, and don't want to give away my position. This is too funny to end so soon. I put the sodas in the coffee table and place my hands on my hips watching her. Sam struggles and curses the ladder, actually threatening to toss it away and buy I bigger one. I snicker, quickly covering my mouth with my hand, but it's too late, she already noticed my presence.

"Why are you just standing there while I'm doing all the work?" She scolds me.

"Well… this is too funny, I just couldn't stop watching." I shrug.

"Funny?" She asks, turning her body a little to the side, and the ladder shakes a little. This can't be good. "Do you think this is funny? There's nothing funny about it _Fredward!_"

The way she says my name it's like an insult. To be honest, I kind of think so. What on earth was my mother thinking when she named me, I don't know, and why my father allowed it, it's beyond my knowledge. Maybe she was too high on medication and broke his hand, he was scared of her breaking his other hand and didn't say anything. Or maybe she just hated me because of all the pain I caused her. In which case, they screwed me pretty good.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

Sam removes her hands from the ladder and it shakes even harder. Now I'm afraid she's going to fall and hurt herself.

"Sam… the ladder. You better get down…"

"It's just a stupid ladder. Now go on and give me my soda!" She crosses her arm and moves a little, making the ladder shake again.

"Sam. I mean it, get down from there!" I'm starting to feel a little nervous.

"Oh. Does wittle Fweddie scared of me falling down the big, bad, ladder? Is he now? Is he?"

She's making cooing sounds, mocking me with her hands too, and it's inevitable, the ladder shakes harder this time.

"Ah!" She screams.

It's all very fast, the damn ladder gives in and falls to the side. Before I can blink, she is in my arms, safe and sound. I don't know what came over me, and if Clark Kent loaned me some of his super powers, but I'm fast as fuck and catch her before she falls with her ass on the ground. She is so small, and looks so delicate, not that she is anyway, but I don't know what could've happened if she had hit the ground. She could've broke a bone or something, and but that's not an option. I won't let her get hurt. Ever. Not if I can help it.

Sam has her arms wrapped around my neck tightly, as if she's afraid to let go, and I don't mind one bit. Her head is buried against my chest, her hot and shaken breath against me, and it feels so right. I hold her bridal style, the way I should've done on our wedding night, but then again, I didn't do anything I was supposed to that night.

"Hey. It's okay." I whisper, pressing my lips to the top of her head.

Her hair smells so frigging good, and it's so soft. I want to touch it. I'm dying to touch it.

"I said I wasn't going to let you fall, don't you remember?" She nods, and I smile, nesting her against me.

After a while she comes back and lifts her head up. She seems embarrassed, and her face is red. I don't know if it's because she cried, or because she was pressing her face tightly against my chest. It doesn't matter really, I don't care.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah… thanks for… uh, catching me."

"I said I would, didn't I?" I offer a smile, in hope to make her feel better.

"You did."

We are silent for a while, just staring at each other. It didn't hit me before, how close we actually are. Damn it, she's in my arms, she's never been here before. Not like this.

"If you tell this to anyone, I'll murder you in your sleep." She whispers.

"I wouldn't dare, Princess."

That is enough to make us laugh our asses off. Sam buries her face on my neck and shakes with laugh. I just find an excuse to bury my face on her hair. We lift our head back up and look into each other's eyes again. If I move a little close, I can kiss her.

"You're a good spouse, Freddie Benson." She states, and I feel so warm inside, knowing she really thinks that.

"You too, Sam Benson."

Her eyes are so navy blue it's insane. I could spend an indefinite amount of time looking into those blue irises. My heart races, not in the same way it used to in the battlefield, or after a nightmare. It wasn't a bad feeling, it was just new. By the way she was pressed against me; I could tell she felt it too, because I certainly could feel her shivering a little. This feeling is so new to me, I never, ever felt it before, and if I ever did, wasn't with this intensity. I hope it's not one-sided. I don't know why, but I want her to feel the same way about me, it's important that she does, for some reason.

I lean in, she leans in and I can feel her breath on me. My heart is like a brakeless car, speeding up with every second. She's so close, and I can see her face, every little detail of her. To say she's perfect, I'd be lying, and one should not lie. So said my mother. She is, although, imperfectly perfect. Her beauty leaves me breathless, and I wish I could tell her that, but the words won't come out. If I could just tell her with my eyes… if she could read them, she would know. But words are just words, anyway.

I can see her eyes closing. Her blue eyes slowly hiding behind her eyelids, and I'm so ready, so ready, when… there's scream and a bang. She jumps off my arms, and I know my moment is over. Only God know when I'll get another chance at this.

"What was that?" She asks, tugging on my arm. "Did you make that sound?"

"Of course not, Sam. I don't scream like a girl!"

I didn't mean to be harsh, I'm just frustrated, that's all. I rub my temple and sigh.

"Sorry. I didn't make that sound. It came from outside. Do you want to go there and check?"

"Yeah… let's go."

Whatever the sound was, it better be something important, otherwise I'm going ballistic. Sam walks in front of me and opens the door. It's immediate; as soon as I'm near her she grabs my hand tightly. What the heck is going on?

**TBC**

* * *

><p><em>AN: Don't hate me yet. I'm sorry for not posting, but weather here is fucked up. It's January, or as I'll say "rain time!" Turns out, rain here is more like a storm. So, we are pretty much living in an island, the lobby of my building is a pool. The cars can't go anywhere, and we're trapped at home. When it rains hard, the power dies. I've been out of power for days on end, that's why I haven't written or updated. So, I'm sorry guys. Now only God knows when I'll be able to update again, because only god knows when the power is going to be gone and back again._

_**Oh, and I kind of need help. Some people have been complaining about the grammar. Well, I said it before, I'm no writer, I never wrote anything before in my life and this is the first time I write something longer than a sentence in English. So will you find errors? Yes. Can I correct them all? No, I have no time, I really, really don't. Someone said I needed an editor, someone who can correct the grammar errors for me. I'll credit every chapter. I don't know how to find one, so if you know anyone, or you want to be my editor, let me know!**_

* * *

><p><em>If Eyes Could Speak – Devon Werkheiser<em>


	10. Hey Jealousy

**Genre:** _Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now. So, Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know what you'd call that… Wibby?_

**Summary: **_They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

* * *

><p>It's all very fast. I was mocking him playfully and the next thing I knew, the ladder was falling, dropping my ass on the floor. But instead of hitting the floor, I'm comfortably and securely held by a pair of strong arms. My heart is beating so fast, I was sure I was going down, I was sure I was going to break something or at least hurt myself. But the pain never came. Instead I was surrounded by warmth and that delicious smell of chamomile.<p>

He caught me before I could fall. He didn't let me fall, just like he said he would, just like he promised me. Maybe some people are able to keep their promises, maybe some people are able to be honest and tell the truth. I press my face hard against his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck tightly. My body doesn't want to let go. I don't want him to let go of me.

"Hey. It's okay." He whispers, pressing his lips to the top of my head.

It's so soft, the way his lips land on the top of my head. I can almost hear my heartbeat racing, and I know it's not from the fall. The other night when he kissed my hand, I felt something I couldn't explain. Something strong, but not scary. Something nice and warm inside of me. I liked that kiss, just as much as I liked being in his arms right now. I guess I liked being close to him. His touch is so delicate; he treats me like I'm made of porcelain or something. It's insulting but endearing at the same time.

"I said I wasn't going to let you fall, don't you remember?" I nod and he nestles me against him.

This just feels right, like somehow it's meant to be. Freddie makes it seem so easy, holding me this way, and although I don't want to bother him with my weight, I also don't want this moment to end. I feel so safe, right here and now, like I've never felt before and I don't want to let go.

After a while, I lift my head up, meeting his eyes. I feel ashamed, my face hot with a warmth that came from him, and that's reassuring, but I also feel stupid. I should've known the damn ladder would give in; I'm not skinny and light like Carly. I should've known the damn thing was going to fall and take me with it. Thankfully, Freddie was fast enough. Thank God he was fast enough. But how the hell did he get to me so fast?

But that doesn't matter. What matters is that he got to me in time.

"Are you alright?" He asks me with sincere concern in his eyes.

"Yeah…thanks for…uh, catching me." I manage to say through my embarrassment.

"I said I would, didn't I?" He said, offering me a sweet smile. I didn't think it was possible, but my heart races even more.

"You did." I whisper.

We are silent for awhile, just staring at each other. Should I be concerned with how fast my heart is beating? Can I die from a heart attack just because I'm this close to him?

"If you tell this to anyone, I'll murder you in your sleep." I whisper, trying to make the air less tense.

"I wouldn't dare, princess."

The way he says it makes me break into an uncontrollable laugh attack. I don't know why I'm laughing exactly, but it's fun when he joins me. I guess it's because I was so nervous a minute ago or because it sounds so weirdly funny how he called me that, even though I'm as close to being a princess as I am from going to Mars. Still, it's kind of flattering, in a comedic way.

I bury my face in his neck, inhaling the sweet scent that always comes from him. I continue to laugh and he buries his face in my hair, laughing with me. Being this close to his neck, I can see a long, throbbing vein, and I touch my nose against his pulse just for the sake of feeling his skin. I lift my head up to look at him and he does the same. We are so damn close that I can see every outline of his face. His strong jaw, his sweet eyes, his lovely dimples, his pretty nose and his soft-looking lips.

"You're a good spouse, Freddie Benson." I say, and I mean every word of it.

"You too, Sam Benson." He replies, making me happy to hear he thinks that of me.

Now I've found the word that fits him in this moment. _Sexy_. He said it earlier, and then I knew that was the word I was looking for. On several occasions I found myself trying to figure out what he was, besides handsome and cute, but the word never came to me. Until he said it. I had tried my best not to blush when he said it, because I knew he was just joking. I could never be sexy, even if I tried. But he is, very much. That lopsided smirk he gives me sometimes is so sexy it makes my insides burn. He is so close that if I move a little I can kiss him on the lips.

I've never kissed anyone before, I don't even know how to do it. I just feel this crazy need to press my lips against his right now. Maybe he'll lead me, maybe he'll teach me how one should kiss properly. I could copy his movements, move with him, mingle with him, melt into him. I want to, I so want to feel him that way. I really do.

He's looking at me so tenderly and intently at the same time, I can tell he feels the same. I can feel his heart beating against me, and it's as fast as mine. He is so sweet and gentle, so I know he wouldn't mock me because I don't know how to do this. And he'll be a good teacher because I can tell he's done this before. I don't even want to think about how many lips he's kissed before, that's none of my business and it's in the past now. The only lips he'll kiss from now on are _mine_.

My eyes are slowly closing against my will. I'm leaning in, he's leaning in. This is it…this is it... I'm ready…

* * *

><p><em>AH! BANG!<em>

I jump out of his arms, ruining our moment forever. There was a loud bang and a scream that startled me, and I cursed myself for being so damn frightened all the time. But I also cursed whoever made that noise for ruining my perfect moment. What if someone is hurt? What if Carly is the one screaming?

"What was that?" I ask lamely, even though I know he doesn't know anymore than I do. "Did you make that sound?"

"Of course not, Sam. I don't scream like a girl!"

Okay, I deserved that. It was a very stupid question. Of course he wasn't the one making that sound. I don't mind that he sounded a little harsh, he seemed frustrated. I know I am too.

"Sorry. I didn't make that sound. It came from outside. Do you want to go out there and check?" He says with a sigh.

"Yeah… let's go."

I walk in front of him, knowing he'll be following me soon. When it comes to Freddie, I always have this certainty that he'll do the right thing, the sweet thing, or the gentle thing. I didn't at first, but now I do. I know he'll come, because I just _know_.

When I'm out the door, I immediately reach behind me to grab Freddie's arm. There's so much blood on the floor, cracked glass all over the place. My eyes search for Carly, making sure she's fine and uninjured. I don't know why, I just need to make sure she's fine. Freddie pokes his head over my shoulder and when he sees the same thing I did, he grabs my arms and hides me behind him protectively.

I see Carly coming out of her own house, Brad following right behind her. Once he sees what's on the floor, he throws her behind him, just like Freddie did to me. She's not hurt, she's fine. He didn't hurt her, he's protecting her. It takes a moment for my brain to process that, but it's true. The blood isn't hers…God I hate blood…there's so much…I feel dizzy. Freddie turns to look me in the eye, grabbing both my shoulders and shaking me out of my trance.

"Sam? Get into the house and lock the door."

He tries to push me inside, but I grab his arm. He's not going there alone, what if something happens to him? I don't want to be alone again, or paired up with someone else. I need him to stay with me. I just want him to stay.

"No! Don't go there!" I yell. "You might get hurt!"

"I won't. Relax, Sam. I won't get hurt in any way. I promise." He rubs my arms, trying to assure me, but I don't believe him. I don't want him to go there.

"No! If you're going, then I'm going!"

"Don't be stubborn." He pleads. "Go inside Sam. Do as I say."

He tries to push me back in, but I just grab his arm again.

"No, Freddie! You're not the boss of me!"

"Alright!" He gives up, holding his hands in the air. "Alright, if you want to come, just come. But stay behind me Sam, and if I tell you to run back to the house, you do it! You hear me? You just do it. Don't question it!"

"Fine!"

He sighs and lets me follow him out of the house. Carly and Brad are already there talking to a redheaded girl and a chubby guy. She's pointing at the floor and laughing, with the guy laughing as well and soon, Carly and Brad start to laugh too. Freddie looks at me over his shoulder and frowns. I shrug, telling him silently that I don't know what the heck is going on either. Freddie approaches Brad and puts a hand over his shoulder.

"What's going on?" He asks.

"Oh, Freddie… these are our new neighbors. Wendy and Gibby."

"Nice to meet you two." He says in a hurry, turning his suspicious eyes back to Brad.

Brad merely smiles and pats Freddie on the shoulder.

"Gibby just dropped Wendy's stash of strawberry jam."

"Strawberry jam?" I ask, sniffing the air and recognizing the sweet taste of jam.

"I make jam." She says.

"Oh… That's not blood?" Freddie asks.

"No! No, no. That's just jam, although I think there will be blood later for me, since I ruined Wendy's stash." The Gibby guy says, chuckling a little.

His wife Wendy laughs too, putting a hand on Gibby's shoulder.

"You bet your ass it will, mister. You ruined my stash! Now I'll have to make more."

"You love to make jam, Wends, I don't think that will be a problem." He says, squeezing the hand she put on his shoulder.

"True." She shrugs.

"So no one is hurt?" Freddie asks one more time, just to be sure.

"No. Everybody is okay." Gibby says. "I'm Gibby Gibson, and this is my wife Wendy."

"Wait." I say when Freddie is extending his hand to Gibby. He immediately stops halfway. "Your name is Gibby Gibson?"

"Well, no. My name is Charles Cornelius Gibson, but people call me Gibby."

"Cornelius?" I snort, and Freddie gives me a disapproving look. "What? I didn't name him!"

"Anyway," Freddie says, totally ignoring me, "I'm Freddie Benson, nice to meet you Gibby," He shakes Gibby's hand, then extends his hand to his wife, "and Wendy."

"Wait? You said Freddie Benson?" She asks, taking hold of his hand to shake.

"Yeah… that's me." He says, frowning.

"Freddie… as in Fredward Benson?" She doesn't let go of his hand, and that bothers me a little.

"Yeah… how do you know that?" He asks, getting suspicious.

"Don't you remember me? Wendy Rhodes!" She points to herself.

"Wendy Rho…" He trails off, realization creeping up into his big brown eyes. "Wendy?"

"Yeah!"

Wendy let's go of his hand and wraps her arms around his neck. Freddie seems unsure at first, but then encircles her waist with his arms. They know each other…from where exactly, I don't know, but what I do know is that she shouldn't be holding Freddie like that. Especially in the middle of the street! And why are they hugging anyway? They shouldn't be hugging. I don't like them hugging like that. I just don't!

"Wendy… wow!"

Freddie pulls away, finally, but takes her hands in his.

"I thought you were dead! No offense." She says.

"None taken, I thought the same thing." He smiles. "How long has it been?"

"I don't know… Seven years?" She asks.

"Probably."

He snickers and she giggles, swaying his hands from side to side like a little school girl.

"Wait! Stop this!" I say, louder than necessary.

Freddie and everyone else turn to look at me. I feel embarrassed, but I clear my throat and pretend to be okay. But I'm not okay with any of this. Whatever this is. I have this bitter feeling in the pit of my stomach, and it doesn't feel nice.

"What is going on? How do you know each other? And who are you?"

"I uh…" She seems a little unsure, then she looks at her hands, held by Freddie's and back at me. "Oh…" Wendy retrieves her hands from Freddie's, finally realizing who I am.

"I'm Wendy." She offers me her hand, and I think about not taking it before I grab it, but I grab it anyway.

"I'm Sam. Sam Benson." I say full of conviction.

"Hi Sam, nice to meet you." She smiles at me, and although she seems nice enough, I still scowl. I don't know who she is. "I went to school with Freddie."

"Oh…" I shake her hand, slightly embarrassed with my behavior.

"He was my first boyfriend."

Wendy giggles a little, and all I want is to break her bony fingers, but I don't. Instead I release her hand.

"Is that so?" I ask, hands on my hips.

I look at Freddie, who is pressing his lips together tightly, probably trying not to laugh. Oh my God! I'm ridiculous…I'm acting like a…a…I can't even say it…I'm acting like _a jealous wife!_ Ugh, I feel disgusted with myself.

"Oh, I didn't know you guys knew each other." Gibby says, a bit cheerfully. Isn't he bothered by this?

"Yeah. Well, we went to school when we were like…twelve. When I said he was my boyfriend, I really mean that he gave me a cookie, we held hands and I pecked him on the lips once." She laughs, leaning into Gibby.

Wendy makes it all seem very little, and very insignificant, but I'm still bothered. She said _pecked him on the lips once _like it was no big deal, but it is. I didn't even get there yet. Ugh, I'm a disgrace! Feeling this way, acting this way…I'm not like this!

"A long time ago."

Freddie puts his arm around me on my hip, bringing me closer to him. I feel self-conscious, because there are people around us, but I give in, leaning against his side.

"So? You guys are moving in today?" Brad asks.

"Yeah. We lived on the other side of town, but our house caught on fire."

"What? That's horrible!" Carly says, covering her mouth with her hand.

"I'm kidding!" Gibby laughs. "I've been transferred. I'm going to work here now, so we had to move."

"Oh…" Carly seems relived, but not amused by his joke.

"You guys need help cleaning up this mess?" Brad asks.

I look at Freddie, trying to tell him I don't want to help. He smiles and nods, kissing me on the forehead.

"Well, we would love that." Wendy says. "Thanks."

"We would help," Freddie starts, "but we were in the middle of painting the living room…so…"

"Oh, I was kind of wondering why you two were wearing those weird jumpsuits." Gibby says, and Wendy giggles.

"Matching jumpsuits…that's sweet. We gotta get one of those Gibs."

"Alright. Maybe when we are painting the house." He kisses her right on the nose and she giggles.

"Listen guys, we've got to go. See you around?" Thank you Freddie, I really don't want to be here.

"Alright." Wendy smiles, shaking my hand, then Freddie's. "Listen, as soon as we are set, you guys are coming over for dinner. And it's not an invitation, it's an order!"

"We'll see, Wendy." Freddie answers for the both of us. "Welcome, you guys are going to like it here. We'll see you around."

"Bye Freddie, nice to meet you." Gibby shakes Freddie's hand one more time.

"Nice to meet you too Gibby."

We say our goodbyes and go back into the house. I don't know how I feel about being neighbors with Freddie's ex-girlfriend. She was his first girlfriend and that's something I can't compete with. They have history, they were mutually attracted to each other in a way that led them to wanting a relationship that is nothing like what we have. It's so different. I'm his duty, she was his feelings. He's doing this because he has to, not because he wants to. What if her arrival awakens old feelings inside of him? I can't compete with that.

"Sam?" He puts his hand on my shoulder, and for some reason I shake his hand off. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Do you want to go back to our painting?"

"Sam, come on…talk to me. I thought we were friends."

Friends. Sure, I can be his friend, meanwhile she can be his girlfriend. How does that sound?

"Nothing Freddie, I'm fine. I just want to get this over with so I can eat."

I reach for the paint brush, but he grabs my arm, making me turn to face him. With one hand, he encircles my waist, with the other he holds my arm, and pulls me closer. Here we are again. Close, so close for the second time today. If I had the balls, I would just move forward and capture his lips with mine, but I don't. Freddie releases my arm and uses his hand brush the hair off my shoulder. I hope he didn't feel me shivering. That would be embarrassing.

"Sam. When you're twelve, it doesn't count. It doesn't matter. I was just happy to see a friend."

"I know…" I try to ignore his hand on my neck, his thumb making circular motions on my skin. "I don't care about that. Why are you telling me this?"

"You looked a little jealous, and I just wanted to cla-" I push him away with both hands.

"Whoa there! I wasn't jealous. I'm not jealous. I don't care if you dated her or didn't."

"Okay, Sam…" He smiles hugely, reaching out for me again but I step back, "alright, you weren't jealous. Just don't be mad at me, please?"

"I'm not mad at you Freddie. Let's just finishing painting the walls. It's already four in the afternoon, and I want to finish this before dinner."

"Okay, if you say so. I believe you. Let's do this, but this time, let me paint the highest corners of the wall, alright?"

"Whatever, Freddie." I reach for my brush and start to paint the wall again.

* * *

><p>We finished the living room around seven o'clock. The fun afternoon we planned was ruined, we didn't talk much or interact at all. Mainly because I was still in a bad mood and Freddie was trying not to irritate me, so we exchanged three words about the painting and nothing more. I don't know why I'm acting this way, honestly I don't. I knew Freddie had other women before, and that never bothered me, so why now? Why do I feel like breaking each and every bone in Wendy's hands, so she won't be able to make jam anymore?<p>

I press my forehead against the cold tile of the bathroom wall. The water is warm against my neck, and I curse myself for acting this way. Freddie was right, I was a little jealous. I've never been jealous of anything or anyone before, so I don't know how to act. It's just…we're getting along so well, he's a better spouse than I could ever ask for…I just don't want him to be taken away from me. Which is stupid, because it's against the law, and technically we are meant to be married forever…well, at least until one of us dies.

It doesn't matter, nothing can excuse my behavior with him earlier. It's not his fault I'm insecure as shit, it's not his fault she's here, he wasn't the one who brought her here, and it's not his fault I don't know how to deal with feelings. She seems nice enough, and really gets along with her husband. I sigh, dry my hair and body, come out of the bathroom, and prepare myself to go to sleep. Even though I was rude to her, Wendy still treated me nicely, maybe I should give her a break. Besides, whatever happened between them was a long time ago. It doesn't matter anymore.

It doesn't matter what they shared before, none of this should matter to me. So what if she kissed him and I didn't? Big deal! Who says I even want it? I shake my head and put on my nightgown. I hate it, I just hate it. It's too short and girly. It leaves my legs exposed and it makes my breasts bigger than they actually are. I wish I had a pair of sweatpants to sleep with…

"You can use mine if you want…"

I look behind me. Freddie is leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest and a big smirk on his lips. _Sexy_…oh God, focus Sam!

"I didn't realize I said that out loud."

"Nah, it's okay, I was eavesdropping." He laughs. "I forgot my pillow."

"Oh…"

"You can wear some of my clothes to bed Sam, I don't mind. Just fold the pants and maybe they'll fit you." He says, reaching for his pillow.

"Freddie…?" He's almost out the door when I call to him.

"Yeah?" He turns around to face me, smiling.

"Sleep here tonight."

"Sam…"

His smile turns into a frown. He's going to start to argue about this, and how it's not a good idea, and how he's not a sick bastard and blah, blah, blah. So I raise my hand to shut him up. Maybe if I explain myself better, he will stop sleeping on that damn couch. I know he's not comfortable.

"I said sleep, Freddie. I'm not asking you to have intercourse with me. Don't worry; I'm not going to attack you during the night."

"Thank you?" He says, but it comes out sounding more like a question.

"You are barely getting any sleep, and I don't want to be responsible if you fall asleep at the wheel and die. Just sleep with me in the bed. We don't have to do anything."

"Oh… if you're okay with that…"

"I am." I say with conviction. "I'm sure. Just come to bed."

Freddie looks between me and the bed, and sighs.

"Alright, okay. But you've got to change that…thing." He points at my nightgown.

"Why…?" I look down to see if there's something wrong with me.

"Because…well, just change that thing Sam. You don't even look comfortable in it." He walks to the dresser and takes out a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt. "Here, you can use these."

"Thanks."

I go back into the closet to change. Freddie's clothes are too big, but he's right. By folding the waistband twice, they fit me. I put on the pair of sweats and unfold the shirt…it smells good, like him…he always smells good.

After I change into his clothes, I feel warmer and way more comfortable. I hated that tiny little thing they gave me to sleep in. The nights are cold, and I always freeze wearing those things.

When I come back into the room, Freddie is already lying on the bed, hands behind his head, all tucked inside the warm comforter. He sees me and snorts, probably thinking about how ridiculous I look wearing his clothes.

"You look cute." He says.

"Don't mock me." I warn him.

"I'm not…" He frowns, "I'm not…you do."

"Whatever."

I tuck myself into the bed, feeling relaxed and warm. I'm not even nervous because he's here. I should be, but all I feel is safe and warm. I turn off the lights and prepare myself to drift off.

"Sam?"

"Yeah…?"

"I really meant it. It doesn't matter you know…"

"I know."

Of course it doesn't. It doesn't matter what he wants or what I want. Visualize paired us up and we have to accept the facts and just be together. Asking him to feel something is too much. I don't even know what I was thinking when I wished…never mind.

"I was twelve, Sam. Sure it was nice seeing a familiar face again. You know, someone from back then, someone I thought was dead. It just felt nice to know that not everyone I knew is dead."

"Yeah…that must be nice."

"And besides…you're my wife."

"I know. Even if you wanted to have something with her it would be dangerous because of the rules and all of the-" Freddie starts to chuckle and his chuckle soon turns into a laugh. I turn around to face him, demanding to know what he's laughing at.

"Oh Sam…I don't want to be with Wendy. I just thought her hair was pretty when I was twelve." He laughs again and I don't say anything, trying to hide my blush even though it's dark and he can't see it. "I didn't even remember her before today. What we had can't even be called history. And it doesn't matter, because I like your hair better anyway." He tugs softly on one of my curls.

He puts his hand on my waist, coming a little closer. I can feel his breath on my face, and I shudder a little.

"I like _you _better anyway." He whispers and I gulp.

"Alright. Let's just get some sleep okay?"

I turn around as fast as I can, hiding my blush and my nervousness. Before I was relaxed and calm, now I'm definitely tense, but I smile anyway. I feel so stupid, like a teenage girl. I know I am a teenage girl, but I don't feel like one very often. Only when he's around…

"Goodnight Sam." Freddie whispers.

"Goodnight Freddie."

I drift to sleep, and for the first time since I got here, I'm happy I'm not alone in this bed. It doesn't feel so empty anymore, and I don't feel so alone.

* * *

><p><em>AN/: Hey guys! First of all I want to thank every offer I've got for editing this. When I asked I didn't know many people would actually want to do this, and seeing how many did impressed me very much. I'm so thankful you guys are such great readers, that I couldn't say no to your offers. Every chapter will be edited by a different editor, and I'll be crediting, this way it won't be too much work for anyone. Anyway this is the first edited chapter, so I hope you guys enjoy!_

_**Edited by Clarksonfan (thank you so much!)**_

_Gim Blossoms – Hey Jealousy _


	11. Dream A Little Dream Of Me

**Genre:** _Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called_ **Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**

* * *

><p>I have my arm around her; her head is resting underneath my chin, and she's perfectly tucked against me. It feels so nice. <em>She<em> feels so nice. I sneak my hand inside the comforter and grip her waist softly, careful not to wake her up. She looks so cute with my clothes on, better than I'll ever look. I make circular motions with my thumb over her shirt. I'm dying to touch her skin – she's so damn smooth. I just want to put my hands on her.

My fingers have a mind of their own and before I know it, they're making their way inside her shirt, my digits feeling the bare skin of her hips. Damn it! She's so soft… I move a little closer to her, pressing against her a little. She stirs a little in her sleep, and I panic. What if she wakes up and thinks I'm molesting her or something? I better keep my hands to myself – it doesn't matter how hard it is.

When she asked me sleep with her tonight, the first thing that came to my mind was that I wouldn't be able to get any sleep next to her, not if she's wearing that thing. But changing into my oversized sweatpants didn't help either. I wanted to touch her no matter what she wore. I'm so damn attracted to her, so intensely hooked; I can't even believe it. It's been a little over a week, and I'm already that hooked. I'll be a goner. Just give me a month.

I decide to move my hands off her. I don't want her to think I'm some kind of pervert. Before I can though, she grabs my wrist, and I freeze. Damn it, she'll think the worst of me.

"Don't…" she whispers. "Don't stop doing what you're doing."

"Sam… I'm sorry I was just…."

"It's okay. I like it."

She puts my hand back inside her shirt, on the crook of her waist. She is the softest thing I've ever touched in my life, and I don't know if it's possible for me to run my hands over her without getting a boner.

"Sam… I…"

"Freddie… I want it. Touch me."

Her voice is low and husky – so damn sexy. I can't help but squeeze her waist a little. She sighs quietly, pressing backwards against me. I groan, gripping her waist tightly, grinding my crotch against her ass. She moans and arches against me.

"Freddie…."

She turns around, hooking one of her legs around my hips. I'm so incredibly hard now, so turned on that it hurts. Sam looks at me with those eyes, those big blue eyes that make me want to do things to her… nasty things. The look she's giving me right now isn't helping me keep these thoughts out of my head. Her eyes are filled with so much lust and want… and it's all for me.

"Kiss me," she whispers.

I press my lips against hers gently, taking my time to taste her. She's sweeter than honey. I take in everything about her – her soft lips, moving against mine slowly, her small hands, running gently through my hair. I lick my way into her mouth, and then there's her tongue, wet and hot, so shy. With every stroke of my tongue, she grows a little bolder, eventually sticking her tongue forcefully into my mouth and moaning. That does it for me. I roll us over, so I'm on top of her. I press her against the mattress.

Why have I been denying myself of this for so long? I want this; I've wanted this for a long time now. I want this woman, I want to make her mine, and that it's all I want.

Sam arches her back and I move my mouth to her neck, licking, nipping and kissing. I try my best to be gentle, when all I want is to thrust inside of her again and again. But I take my time, kissing her once, twice, three times, making her melt into my arms. I caress her, but my hands don't dare to go further, nowhere up or down her stomach. I just run my hands over her back, softly tracing the line of her spine with the tips of my fingers, or palming her stomach. Sometimes I circle her belly button or run my hands down her arms.

"Freddie… ah…" she pants.

"Am I hurting you?" I move away.

"No… I like this… a lot."

Sam sits up, her hands going for the hem of her shirt.

"Sam…. Are you sure?"

"Yes. I want you."

She discards her shirt, not giving me any time to gawk at her breasts, because she quickly moves for the hem of my shirt.

"No… I'm… I'm not pretty like you… I'm scarred and…."

"I don't care." She tugs harder on my shirt, and I finally give in.

I'm embarrassed to be shirtless in front of her. My skin isn't smooth and pretty like hers. My body is not something I'm proud of, but she doesn't seem to care. Sam moves, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me with renewed energy. I groan, feeling her soft breasts pressing against my bare chest – roughness and smoothness pressed against each other.

I lay her back onto the bed and finally allow my hands to wander around like I've wanted. I cup her left breast and she moans into my mouth. Sam uses her feet to push my sweat pants down my legs, and I pull away to discard hers.

Our mouths move together; our hand roam all over; our clothes fly off with the speed of light and soon enough I'm inside of her. Damn, she's tight and hot! She's so wet… I think I might die from the bliss.

"Freddie…." she moans loudly against my ear. "Faster!"

I move faster and harder, pounding into her again and again. She moves with me. She moans; she squirms and yells my name and I love every second of it. I'm moving harder and faster… I'm almost there… faster, harder… and repeat and repeat.

Harder.

Harder.

Harder.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

* * *

><p>I open my eyes and sit upright, very quick. I'm covered in sweat and panting. My shirt is soaked, and my forehead is damp. Damn it! It was only a goddamn dream! Of course it would be a dream. Why would Sam wake up in the middle of the night with the sudden urge to have intercourse with me? That doesn't make any sense, Freddie! Don't be dumb. And I wouldn't have the balls to sneak my hand into her shirt without permission. That's dumb…. That was a dumb dream. That would never happen. Well, not like <em>that,<em> anyway.

"Freddie…" Sam groans by my side.

I look down at her as she rubs her sleepy eyes. Her shirt is pulled up a bit, enough to let me see her belly button. I look down and realize that I'm still hard from my dream. Panic starts to take over me. I don't want her to see me like this! I don't want her to think I'm some sort of pervert. Damn it!

"Can you make the alarm shut up, please?"

Her voice is sweet, probably because she's still a little drowsy. I slap the alarm clock. It's seven o'clock.

"What time is it?" she asks, while I'm furiously looking for something to cover my erection with. I choose the pillow in the end.

"Uh… seven."

"Am I late for work?" Sam asks, snuggling into her pillow.

"No, it's Sunday, Sam. Go back to sleep." I say, turning my back to her before tossing my pillow back at the bed.

I throw the comforter off my legs and start to get up. I need a cold shower. _Now_!

"Mmm… Freddie…?" she moans a bit.

"Y-yes?" I stammer.

"Where are you going?"

I look at her over my shoulder; she has her eyes closed, her leg sneaking out of the comforter. Her shirt is now up to her waist. I lick my lips, but quickly look away, ignoring the sight of her bare skin for my own benefit. Only God knows what will happen if I stay here any longer. I might pounce on her at any moment.

"I'm going to take a shower. You sleep tight, okay?"

I try to get up, but she grabs my arm.

"Don't go…" she whines.

"I need a shower Sam…." Or my balls will be blue forever. "But you sleep. Alright? I'll make you breakfast later."

"Mkay…." She releases my arm and grabs my pillow to snuggle with.

I cover her body with the comforter and get up and do my best to walk to the bathroom without letting my boner show.

"Freddie?" she asks, when I'm finally stepping into the bathroom.

"Yes, Sam?" I use my hands to cover my boner, even though I have my back turned to her.

"Don't ever leave me, please?"

She's at her sweetest when she is sleepy – I have to remember that. I smile, hiding my body behind the bathroom door so I can turn my head to look at her. She's snuggling with my pillow, her hair falling all over the place. She looks so sweet when she's asleep. Her walls are down, and she doesn't seem so tough. She doesn't have to be.

"Never, Sam. I promise," I reply. I go into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

She probably won't remember any of this in a couple of hours, but I'll never forget it. I'll never forget that she doesn't want me to leave her. I'll never forget she wants me to stay.

Since yesterday, I'm giddy like a school girl. First, I had her in my arms. Then, I almost kissed her. After that, she got jealous of me. And finally, we shared a bed. Now, she asks me to stay with her? That's plenty of progress for just one day. I'm pretty proud of myself right now.

I find something to think about while I'm in the shower. I don't think fantasizing about my wife is such a sin, and so what if I'm a pervert? At least I'm not forcing myself at her. I imagine Sam walking into the shower, naked, roaming her hands all over me. It doesn't take much more to get me over the edge; it's been so long since I've felt a woman's body against me. It's been too long since I've had someone like that – a year, maybe more. I moan quietly, shooting my release against the shower tiles. It's going to feel much better when I'm inside of her.

After the war, sex wasn't my priority. First, I wanted to find a place to live. Next, I wanted food; then I wanted to heal my damaged mind. And finally, I wanted something to keep me occupied.

I kind of forgot how good human contact could be. That was, until Sam came along. It's impossible to not desire her, and now it's becoming impossible not to like her. I wonder if it would scare her if she knew how much I want her. I hope not, because one day I want to show her. I want her to know she's the one on my mind, that she's the one I'm thinking about all the time. I want her to know that it's not because I have to, but because I want to.

It's both scary and impressive, how fast she crept into me. I started to care about her so intensely and it happened so quickly; it was almost overnight. I wonder what could happen in six months, a year maybe. This never happened before, and I never thought it could happen after everything I've been through. With all my intimacy issues, I never dreamt of letting anyone in. She just… made her way into me, effortless. And it scares the hell out of me. I don't want to feel so vulnerable. I don't want to feel this way about someone who might never feel the same way about me.

* * *

><p>I don't eat breakfast; I just make myself some coffee and go straight to Brad's. I need to get my tools back if I want to start working on Sam surprise. Brad can't sleep past seven, so I know he's awake. I knock on the front door, and wait for him to let me in. Brad is always so helpful when I have my nightmares; he always keeps me sane. And when it comes down to it, I can always count on him to make sure that I don't hurt anyone – even myself.<p>

He shows up almost a minute later, putting on his cotton pajama shirt. I wonder if I just ruined his moment. Damn it, I envy him right now.

"Hey man… I'm sorry, did I…?"

"No, it's fine. I was on my way to the shower." He smiles, stepping aside so I can come into his house. "Did you eat yet?"

"Uh, yeah… sure," I mumble.

Brad is always worried about me. As soon as I was released from the hospital, he started to get all paternal and take care of me. Brad got me my first apartment, organized my doctor's appointment and made sure I showed up. He also (practically) threw my medicine down my throat and kept me from killing myself more than once. He is a true friend, and he didn't do it because he owed me something – he did it because he cared. To me, Brad is like the brother I never had. For a long time, he was my only family.

"Freddie, Freddie… pants on fire," He hums and puts his hands on his waist.

"Seriously, Brad? You are seriously going to play liar, liar with me now?" I chuckle.

"You're lying," he states.

"Okay, I drank some coffee, but don't worry; I'll eat something soon. In fact, I'll make Sam some breakfast later and then I'll eat."

"Oh… you're going to make Sam breakfast?" He crosses his arms against his chest and smirks.

"Yeah… she likes my coffee… and the way I fry the bacon." I shrug.

"The way you fry bacon, huh?"

"Stop it, alright? You know what I mean."

"Freddie…." His expression changes to concern. "Did you…? Did you do what you're supposed to?"

"I don't know what you mean…." I play with my thumbs.

"Freddie…." He sighs and motions for me to go into the living room.

I sit on the couch, the same lumpy couch that lives on my living room – the one I hate with all my heart. Brad sits on the armchair in front of me, giving me that motherly look of his. I know he wants to make sure everything is okay with me, but I'm not in the mood for sex conversation with him, especially because_ he_ is the prude one. I've taught him everything he knows about sexual intercourse. I'm sure I don't need a lecture.

"Brad? Really? I'm not in the mood for your motherly advice right now. I'm here for my tools; I need them back."

"Motherly?" He glares at me, then shakes his head, trying to focus. "Never mind. Freddie, Sam is your wife, and I get that you didn't want to take her in the first night. It would've been too weird. But you can't keep delaying this…. It's inevitable."

"I know, okay? I just… I just wanted to… I wanted her to…"

"Like you first? Love you? Love can be conquered with the little things you do. You will grow to love her and she'll grow to love you, but that takes time. And time is something you don't have."

"What do you want me to do? Go back to the house and take her there and then?"

"No… I just want you to understand the situation."

"I still have time, Brad. I still have a month or so, right?"

"Right. Just be aware of your duties." He pats my knee and gets up.

"What can happen? If I don't… you know…" I run my hands over my thighs to relax.

"Well…" Brad looks from side to side, he does that every time he is nervous. "I don't know. Just do what you have to and avoid problems, okay? I'm sure Sam will understand; this is her duty too."

"I don't want it to be like this, Brad. A duty. I want her to be comfortable; I want her to want it – to truly _want_ it."

"Okay, Freddie, just as long as you do it before the doctor's appointment."

I decide to ignore the fact I know he's lying. He knows what can happen, but for some reason, he doesn't want to tell me. Well, I'm not sure if I do want to know. All I do know is, Sam is not my duty and I don't want to be hers.

"You said you needed your tools?"

"Yeah. I'm building Sam a gift."

"Oh, that sounds good. But why don't you buy her something instead?" he suggests.

"I want to build her something with my own hands. Can I get my tools now?"

"You're sure you're ready to use them?"

"Brad…." I put my hand on his shoulder. "I'm not going to commit suicide with them. Trust me."

"But what if you have another…?"

"I won't. I'm in a great mood today," I say with a sincere smile.

"Alright. Come here."

He walks into the kitchen and I follow him. My tool bag is under the sink. He grabs it and gives it back to me. I've missed them; for days I wasn't able to build anything. There was nothing to keep my mind occupied, but now I have an important project to work on.

"So? Wendy was your girl, huh?"

"Yeah, well. We were twelve, so it doesn't count. But it's good to know she's alive and… Wendy showing up made Sam a little jealous. I like it, you know… that she was jealous. Makes me feel… wanted."

Brad chuckles and I join him. Being here with him now, reminds me of how long it's been since we did anything together. I miss hanging out with my friend.

"I missed this, you and me and laughing," he says, like he just read my mind.

"Me too. We should do something together, you know."

"We should. Baseball next Saturday? We can get the girls together too. They can get to know each other better. And we can ask Gibby and Jeremy to join. It can be fun! How does that sound?"

"It sound great, my friend." I pat his back. "I've got to go now."

I turn around and open the door. Brad follows me there.

"What are you building her anyway?"

"That thing my dad did for my mom…." I don't need to tell the whole story. He knows what I'm talking about, and I'm sure he remembers that.

"That's nice. I'm sure she'll love it."

"I hope so."

* * *

><p>It's nice to have my tools back. When I had nothing to occupy my mind with, my doctor gave me some tools, these tools, so I could keep my mind from wandering. Lately, I've been busy trying to adjust myself to this new life, and to Sam's arrival. Now that the waters are calm again, I can finally enjoy some alone time with my tools. I've always liked to do something productive. I've never been lazy nor will I ever be.<p>

I start to cut the wood. I need to make sure I have the right measure for Sam's gift. I want to work on the wood before I start to make the… well, the best part. Thankfully, I remember every detail my dad taught me about making this gift. My memory is good, too good.

Sometimes I wish I could forget certain things. But I just can't.

Now, it's not the time to think about this, I have to keep my focus before I screw up my work. Whenever my mind wanders, I lose myself in the memories, and I have daydreams that never end up well. I already feel my pulse rising, just like it always does when I'm about to get nervous. I try to inhale and exhale the best way I can.

My mind remembers that Sam's sleeping upstairs, and that makes my pulse relax. My hands stop shaking and my heart slows, now back to its regular pace. Her presence becomes calming to me. When I remember she'll be home waiting for me, I feel my body relaxing, and whenever I see her, I seem to forget that I've spent the whole day feeling tense. I wish I had the same effect on her. Nevermind, now it's time to focus on my work, even though I keep thinking about what Brad said.

I know Sam wouldn't mind giving herself to me whenever I wanted, but _I_ mind. I don't want it to be like that. I don't want it to be nothing more than a bad memory to her.

Sleeping by her side last night was… amazingly scary. I literally have never felt so relaxed in my life, but yet I've never felt so tense. Does that even make sense? From the first time I saw her, I desired her, and every day I seem to want her more. My body wants her that way, but my mind scolds itself every time I think about it. I don't want to do something she's not ready for, but at the same time…. Damn it! Sleeping that close to her… Jesus, I feel like I'm going to have a hard time having a boner every day, _especially _if she wears that nightgown every night. It's going to be a tough ride.

Around 8:45, I finish my work and go upstairs to take a shower. I use the small bathroom down the hall, the one I hate so much. After the shower, I change and decide to go wake Sam up, so we can cook breakfast together. We don't do a lot of things together, and I kind of like spending time with her. When I get into the room the bed is empty and already made, and I can hear the water running in the bathroom. She's already awake.

"Great, at least I won't have to wake her up… she looks so cute when she's sleeping…" I say under my breath, but then I grimace and scold myself. I have to stop with all of this sentimental bullshit. "Get a grip, Freddie. Jesus, you're such a lame dork!"

I shake my head and go downstairs to make breakfast. I fry the bacon and make waffles. I'm planning on making pancakes, orange juice, and eggs benedict. I know Sam will like that.

It's been almost fifteen minutes and I haven't seen Sam yet. Suddenly, panic starts to takeover me. My imagination runs wild. What if she's hurt? What if she fell?

I abandon the frying pan and rush upstairs. I almost bump into Sam when I'm climbing them, making me take three steps back.

"Hey." She smiles shyly at me.

Sam is standing in the middle of the stairway, staring down at me. She's wearing a yellow dress that makes her hair seem even more golden. She is radiant like the sun. Her hair is half down and half up, like the day of our wedding, and she's wearing a little bit of lipstick. To make her look even sweeter, she's wearing a pair of white ballerina flats and a white cardigan. Even though she looks beautiful, I'm pretty sure she's not happy with the clothes Visualize chose for her. Maybe I should take her to a shop sometime this week, so she can buy the clothes she likes.

"You look lovely," I say.

"Thanks, Freddie." She smiles, toying with her dress.

"I'm making eggs and bacon. I'm also trying out pancakes… if you like them…."

I climb two more steps, bringing myself closer to her. Now I'm standing a mere step away from her. Sam is small, but right now she's on my eye level.

"I like them. But… do you even know how to make pancakes?" She smirks.

"Well…. No. But, I was hoping you could help me out," I confess.

"Alright. Leave the pancakes to me and work on the coffee, okay?"

"Okay. That sounds fair. And Sam…"

"Yes?"

"As I said before… you look lovely, but not comfortable. What about I take you out some time, to buy clothes?"

"I have clothes. Didn't you say you liked them?" she says, looking at her outfit.

"I did, but I don't think you do."

"It doesn't matter. The Visualize people told me I should dress the way that pleases my spouse." Sam says with that determinate 'I can take whatever you've got' look on her face, and I don't like it. Not at all. "If you like them, I'll wear them."

"In this case, I don't," I say bitterly.

"But you just said…." I cut her off.

"I want you to feel comfortable; the esthetic part doesn't matter to me. I was thinking we could go and shop, so you can pick whatever makes you feel comfortable. We can get you new bed clothes and some pants too. What do you think?"

"Aren't we going to get in trouble for that?"

"No. Don't worry, they can't arrest us for shopping," I laugh.

"Alright…" She sighs, "in that case… thank you, Freddie." Sam smiles, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

"You're welcome. I just want you to feel comfortable."

Her smile dies, but she doesn't look upset. I can't figure out what her expression means. She places both hands on my shoulders and leans forward, pressing her lips against my cheek. I feel a crazy jolt of electricity running through my veins, but I don't move. She lingers a little, breathing on my skin, making it hard for me to remember my last name. The dream I had last night comes back to me, making my heart beat faster. It takes all of me, and a little more, to not grab her by the waist and kiss the life out of her. I close my eyes and clench my fists.

"Can you smell this?" she whispers against my skin.

"This…? What?" I ask lamely.

"This… smell…" Sam pulls away, but keeps her hands on my shoulders.

"Smell…?"

I open my eyes and she snickers. I'm pretty sure I look like I just took a blow to the head.

"Something is burning."

"Burning…?" Yep, my skin! I wonder if she can feel it.

I'm still a little lightheaded, but then I remember the frying pan I just abandoned in the kitchen.

"Shit! I left the eggs… damn it, the eggs!"

Sam laughs as I run over to the kitchen and try to save something, but it's too late, the eggs are already black.

"Damn it! I can't even fry fucking eggs right! Damn it!" I cuss.

I yank the frying pan off the stove and throw the eggs on the trash and the pan on the sink. My eggs are ruined! Good job Freddie, nice way to make a fool of yourself! I place my palms on the sink and hang my head down, scolding myself for the burnt eggs.

"It's just eggs."

Sam grabs my upper arms and turns me around to face her.

"I ruined it," I claim, looking at the tiles. "The kitchen smells like smoke."

"I don't care. We can make more. Come on, I have to teach you how to make pancakes." She punches my shoulder playfully. "I forbid you to go all sentimental because of dead embryos."

"Alright." I chuckle. "Okay, let's make some pancake."

"That's the spirit."

She softly, and playfully, slaps my face twice, and turns around to put on her apron.

"Come on Fredman, let's do this chizz."

I laugh at the nickname she just gave me, but I don't say anything. I copy her every move, trying my best to learn how to make good pancakes. She's surprisingly a great teacher, but a little inpatient, throwing flour at me and calling me a dork every time I do something stupid. But this way, we have fun – the fun we didn't have yesterday. I look out the window facing my workshop, thinking about Sam's gift, and how much I want her to like it. I want her to love it. I want her to love me.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Hey guys, how are you all? Many people asked me to write jealous Freddie, and believed me, that will happen. In the right time! I promise! And yes, I do read all my reviews! I love them. Every time I post a chapter I wait patiently for a review and I read them all with a smile on my face! Oh and the kiss is going to happen soon, don't worry!_

_**Edited by Ashlee Seddie (Thank you! XD)**_

* * *

><p><em>Doris Day - Dream A Little Dream Of Me (I love this song!)<em>


	12. Lilium

**Genre:** Romance/Drama/AU

**Rating:** M

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything.

**Pairings: **Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?

**Summary:** They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called** Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**

* * *

><p>Freddie offered to buy me some clothes this week and I've been dying to go. He assured me we won't get in trouble, but I made him ask Brad anyway. I don't want him to get in trouble because of some stupid clothes. I never cared about fashion, but I always had my own taste for clothes. For instance, while the other girls loved skirts and dresses, I loved pants and cargo shorts. Everything that would cover my legs was good for me. I don't like leaving that part of my body exposed. It makes me feel self conscious.<p>

The only good thing about Visualize's life style is the rule that every week the couple must take a day off to dedicate to each other. It's all a poor excuse for "go and try to procreate," but since Freddie and I are not trying to do that yet, we're going shopping. He says that there's a big market on the border of the city where we can find all kinds of things. I do need some good clothes, but I also want to buy things for the house. I'm kind of warming up to that place and I want to make it look better. I want to put a little bit of me there... of us.

Freddie suggested we could go in the morning and have the rest of the day to do whatever we want. We don't spend a lot of time together because we work all day and when we're home he's always inside that workshop doing only God knows what. When he comes to bed, I'm already passed out. He wakes up before me and goes to sleep after I'm already in the land of dreams. At first, I thought he was ignoring me because the entire bed sharing thing, but when I confronted him, he laughed and said he was working on my gift.

When I dared him to build me something, I didn't really think he would and I wasn't asking for a gift or anything. I swear to God I was just teasing him. But he was working on it anyway and he made it seem like it was a gift. I haven't gotten any gifts since I was eleven, so I can't help but to be a little excited about this one in particular. Sometimes, I'm overwhelmed by curiosity and want to break into his workshop to look at what he's doing. I could do it. I know very well how to pick a lock, but that would ruin the surprise. Usually, I don't like surprises, but this one is intriguing enough to keep me waiting.

"Are you ready, Sam?" He asks me on the other side of the door.

"I'm almost!"

I put on one of my dresses, pick a cardigan that fits better with the color and chose my shoes. I sit in front of my vanity and put on a little bit of makeup. Right, I don't like makeup. That much is true, but I know Freddie likes when I use lipstick. I don't mind putting on a little bit of lipstick if he likes it so much. I don't really care about my looks, but I know he likes when my hair is half up and half down like it was on our wedding day. I know he likes when I wear blue and use blush too, even though he says I look better without makeup.

Finishing my work, I smooth my hair a little and open the door. I see that he isn't there anymore and climb down the stairs to find him looking at the coffee table. He has this look on his face like he's concentrating. He looks really cute when he frowns. Freddie walks around the coffee table and bites his lips. Those lips I could be kissing right now if I wasn't such a puss. The other day when he offered to buy me clothes, I should've have kissed him on the lips. I was going to, but for some reason I decided agaisnt it. Pretty lame of my part, I know. By the way he reacted after I kissed his cheek, I knew he would've be okay with a real kiss.

I liked how he kept his eyes closed for a little while after I pulled away and the way he looked dazed. Made this inner goddess I never knew existed in me rejoice. He bites his lips until they're white and rubs his chin.

"Freddie?" I call him, finally making him notice my presence.

"Oh, hey. You're ready?"

"Yeah. What were you doing just now?"

"Oh, that… I was hating the coffee table." He says flatly.

"Hating the coffee table?"

"Yeah. I was thinking about building another one. You know, a better one. This one is just… ugh." He grimaces at the furniture.

"It really is ugly." I say. "I hate that vanity in our bedroom too."

His eyes widen a little, but only briefly and I know why. I said our bedroom. That's the first time I said that. My cheeks turn red at the realization of my words and what they mean. But that is our room, the room of a couple and we should be doing things a couple does in there... in that very room... every night.

Sometimes, when we're asleep and he's pressed up against me, I feel my body heating up. I want to turn around and kiss him, but again, I don't have the guts. I wake up every morning with the warmth of his body. It stays with me through the day and it feels so good. Sometimes, I just want to run my hands all over him, but I'm afraid he would object.

"Yeah…" He agrees, looking at the floor. "If you want I can make you a new one. That one is just… ugly."

"If you don't mind." I shrug.

"I don't. I don't mind at all…" He smiles hugely.

"Shall we go now? I mean we don't want to waste the afternoon there, right?" I return his smile and grab my purse.

"Yeah, come on."

Freddie opens the front door for me and leads me to the car where he opens the door for me, again. I like that he is a gentleman. I don't know any other guy like him, never did and never will.

* * *

><p>We drive by his work and he points the floor he works at. Freddie tells me a little about his co-workers, what he does all day and how he actually likes working there. I exchange. I tell him about the bakery and how much I surprisingly enjoy working there. When we arrive at the market, Freddie parks the car and exits, telling me to wait inside. He walks around the car and opens the door for me again. I wonder if he'll do that every time. I don't mind actually…<p>

"Okay. We have everything we need here." He tells me, closing the door. "Clothes, kitchen utensils, food, furniture and whatnot. I think it's actually the time to buy some food, since we're almost running out of it. Also, Brad invited us to have dinner with him and Carly tomorrow night and I was thinking we can bring something… like pie, for instance. What do you think?"

"Alright, that sounds good." I nod.

"Great! Carly really wants to know you better and we'll take the opportunity to meet our new neighbors."

"Wait, what?"

I grab Freddie's arm, making him turn around.

"Do we have to?" I whine.

"Sam..." He chuckles. "No we don't, but it would be good to know them, get that out of the way... Don't you think?"

"Maybe… I guess, yeah."

"If you don't want to, I can just tell Brad you're not feeling okay and we-"

"No!" I interrupt him. "There's no need. I'll go. We'll go its fine. I can make pie and we can go. It's no big deal."

"Okay."

He put his hand over mine, the one that remained on his arm and rubbed it softly. I like it when he touches me. I really, really do.

"Come on, let's shop."

Freddie offers me his arm and I take it, following him into the market. This thing is really huge! It's almost as big as the underground base I've lived in for years. I never saw so much different stuff in only one place.

"If you see something you like, we can get it okay?" He says.

"Okay." I lie.

I don't want him to buy me unnecessary things, the clothes are already good enough, maybe too much even. We pass by the furniture since Freddie can make it with his bare hands, I don't want to spend money on that. Besides, I kind of like the idea of him building stuff for our home. Freddie makes a beeline for the clothing section and I spot some jeans that can fit me well. Oh God, I miss pants and shorts!

"Okay, you go ahead and pick whatever you want. I'm going to buy some new tools and gardening stuff."

"Oh, can you get me flower seeds?" I ask. "The backyard's too empty."

"Noted. What kinds of flowers do you like?"

I think for a minute. I don't really have a specific taste for flowers. In fact, I never thought about that very much. I guess the simplest ones are good for me.

"I don't know… lilies maybe. Something simple like that."

"Okay, lilies. I'll get them for you." Freddie gives me a chaste kiss on the forehead, making my head spin a little. "I'll meet you back here so we can buy food. Alright?"

"Alright."

I smile and watch him leave. Oh, his backside is nice… he has nice thighs and stuff… Oh, come on, Sam! Get a grip! But wait, he's my husband! I can look at his backside as much as I want because I can! I can and I want to. Period.

* * *

><p>It doesn't take me even fifteen minutes to choose the clothes I need. I've never been a girly girl, so it doesn't take me a lot of time to shop for clothes. I remember when I was little how my mother used to drag me and Melanie to the mall and how we spent hours watching her pick clothes out for herself. It was even worse when she was shopping for us. Damn, I hated the fluffy dresses she made me wear.<p>

I shake my head and fight the tears threatening to spill out of my eyes. I quickly recompose myself, watching Freddie approach me with a shopping cart. He has a list in his hand and he keeps looking around to see if he needs anything on the shelves. He looks a little lost though. Like a little motherless boy in the mall. I snicker, thinking about how cute he can look sometimes. I chuckle to myself and grab the clothes I chose.

Luckily, they had nice clothes here. Simple things like t-shirts and jeans are the things I've been missing for a long time. Although, I must admit that even though I hate those dresses, I like the way Freddie looks at me when I wear them. I'm not blind, I see him staring at my legs whenever he has the chance and that makes me feel a little proud of myself. I've never been aware of my body, but since he seems to like it, I guess I don't look so bad. Maybe I should keep wearing the dresses just because he likes them.

He said he doesn't care about the esthetic part of it all, but I just… want him to think I'm pretty. It does something to me when he says I'm beautiful or that I look lovely. It does something good. I love it when he compliments me... even if I don't believe it.

Freddie smiles at me and I throw my clothes inside the shopping cart. He's still holding the list of what we need for the house, but he doesn't seem to be doing a good job finding everything. So, I snatch the list out of his hand.

"So, what did you get so far?" I ask him.

"Just the stuff for the garden and new pipes for the kitchen sink. I was thinking I could change them before it floods the kitchen."

"Alright." I say, looking at his list. "We still new bed sheets, new curtains, bathroom utensils and food. I was thinking we could buy things for me to bake. I could use some practice and you could be my judge."

"Oh, I would love that!" He seems eager like a little boy on Christmas Eve. "I was wondering when I would get to taste your majestic work."

"It's not majestic." I say flatly, but blush a little. "I'm still learning and I thought some practice would do me good."

"I agree, Sam. Come on, let's buy you whatever you need. Starting with a mixer… you need it, right?"

"Yes, Freddie. I could use one." I chuckle.

"Okay then, let's do this thing."

He wraps one arm around my shoulders and keeps one hand on the cart. I feel a little nervous about it, but the way he does it so naturally calms me down. So, I wrap one arm around his waist.

"Don't you need anything?" I ask him.

"Yeah… I could use more tools and some paint, but I already got them... So? You found nice clothes?"

"Uh-huh. I found some really nice pants and shorts. God knows I missed them. I also bought new pajamas. Comfortable ones, you know."

"Great. See, I told you. Now you dress the way you like and you can throw those dresses away."

"I don't want to throw them away."

"Really? Why not?"

"I kind of… like them."

I don't like them, just the way you look at me when I wear them.

"I thought you hated it." He says, his hand rubbing my shoulder softly.

"I-I… uh… don't. I don't. I just don't want to wear them all the time."

"Okay. It's your choice." He shrugs. "So, what do we have next on the list?"

"Bed sheets and stuff…" I clear my throat, gripping his waist a little tightly. I like the way I fit perfectly by his side.

"Sure. That's in… section five. Come on, we can choose some happy sheets instead of those boring ones we have."

"Yeah, that would be good." I giggle.

* * *

><p>Freddie was nice enough to let me get everything that I wanted. Like, a stash of my delicious fatcakes, but I suspect he only did it because of the old phonograph he found. When he looked at that thing, his eyes sparkled like he just saw the most amazing on earth. But it was extremely expensive, so I guess he felt bad about getting himself something so pricy. I didn't mind him getting something for himself with his money, but he felt like he should give me something expensive too. I took the opportunity to buy fatcakes, turkey, ham, bolivian bacon and chocolate. Oh, it's a happy day!<p>

He seemed very happy with that thing even though the sales man said it was broken. Freddie didn't even flinch. He said he could just fix it. With so much conviction, it was hard to not believe him. If you ask me, that was one hell of an old, ugly thing, but if he likes it, who am I to judge?

We finished our shopping and Freddie took me out for lunch even though I insisted it wasn't necessary. After we returned from the market, I went upstairs to put my new clothes in my closet and organize the bathroom and bedroom stuff while Freddie put the food on the fridge and the gardening stuff outside.

"Oh, thank God for new clothes." I say to myself. "I love you all."

I kissed my new pair of pants before hanging them in the closet. It definitely felt good to dress more like myself and I have to thank Freddie for that. He's been nothing but good to me. I feel like I should be doing something for him too. I should reward him. I just don't know how.

When I get downstairs, Freddie is leaving the kitchen and carrying his phonograph with him. He seems so happy he found that thing. He even bought a few records, but I didn't see which ones.

"Hey. I'm done with kitchen. I'm going to do a few things in my workshop, but I'll be right back."

"Okay…"

He smiles and walks past me, going towards the backyard. I don't know why that bothers me a little. This is our couple's day and we should be doing couple's things. Still, he prefers to lock himself inside that workshop with that old thing. But what am I thinking? What do I think we are going to do today? Sit on the couch and stare at each other's face? Don't be pathetic, Sam. He's probably going to do something productive with his time while you stay here wondering about stupid things.

Seriously, what did I think we were going to do on couple's day? We're not having sexual intercourse or intimacy of any kind. We don't own a TV or a radio. We don't have board games. What was I thinking we were going to do? Never mind. Maybe I should occupy my time with something productive instead of harbor these stupid feelings inside my chest.

Since I have nothing better to do, I could just simply try my baking skills. I grab my new mixer and the supplies to start the production of my cupcakes. It's good to keep my mind occupied, so I can stop having thoughts I'm not supposed to be having in the first place. Some really wise man once said: An idle mind is the devil's workshop. I guess it was something like that, but whatever. I should keep myself busy.

* * *

><p>After I'm done with the cupcakes, I eat a bunch and put the rest in the fridge for Freddie. They're not the best ones I've ever tasted, but it could be worse. I could've burnt them. Speaking of cupcakes, Freddie just went upstairs. Probably to take a shower or something. I'm so excited to show him my cupcakes and have him try one. If he likes it then I'll know they're truly good and maybe I can take them to Brad and Carly's tomorrow night.<p>

I clean the kitchen and go sit on the porch to wait for him. It's a beautiful night and the air is fresh, not too cold nor too warm. I spot the old phonograph Freddie bought this afternoon sitting on a table next to me. I run the tips of my fingers over it, trying to figure out why Freddie likes it so much. I notice that there's a record on it, ready to be played. I guess he fixed it after all. Next to the phonograph are some records from old people I don't know and never heard of. How Freddie knows them is beyond me, but I guess he must like it because he selected every record very carefully.

There's nothing interesting to do around here. Freddie is the only thing that is not boring in this town. I truly hate this place. One, because it's kind of creepy and it reminds me of that old show called I love Lucy and two, because I'm used to warmer places with grass, trees and animals. We don't have that here… we don't have much except for concrete. That's why I asked Freddie to buy seeds for the backyard. Outside can be grey and empty, but I don't want my house to be.

I remember my grandma saying once that we should take care of our home like it's a vital organ. At the time I didn't understand what she was saying, but I know it had something to do with the bible. Anyway, I feel like taking a good care of my house will make me more comfortable in my own atmosphere. I can start fixing the garden Saturday morning because it's already dark. I might have to learn how to do it, but I want to do this by myself.

"Hey, Sam?" Freddie calls, leaning against the doorframe.

"Oh… hi… I was wondering if you wanted to…" I was about to say taste a cupcake then I look down at his hands. He's holding a medium size box. "What's that?"

"Your gift. I've finished this afternoon."

"So, that was what you were doing the whole day?" I ask, feeling a little guilty.

"Yeah. And now, it's finished, so open it and tell me if you like it."

I'm about to get up and reach for the box, but Freddie motions for me to stay put and kneels in front of me. He places the box on my lap and for the first time, I notice the blue wrapper and the red bow.

"What is it? Is it a dollhouse?" I tease.

"No. It's not because if I remember well, you like to set fire at dollhouses." He chuckles. "And I couldn't have that."

"Okay, then. Let's open and see."

I undo the bow and watch Freddie bite his lip as I start to unwrap the package. I try to be delicate and patient, but I just end up ripping the paper wrapper. I want so badly to know what's inside that box.

"Sorry." I say, throwing the ripped paper wrapper on the floor.

"It's just paper." He shrugs.

"It's been so long since I've got a gift…" I comment under my breath.

"Well, this won't be the last." He says and I smile.

Now that I've got rid of the paper wrapper, I see a white box. I pull the top open and that's when I see it… a medium sized wooden box. I carefully take it out of the paper box, tossing it on the floor and placing the wooden box on my lap. I run my fingers over the carved details on top of it, paying attention to the golden plate that says, _To Sam_. I turn it around and run my hands over the details on the side and back. On the front of the box, there's another golden plate that says, _From Freddie_.

"Open it." Freddie says.

Slowly, I open the box, immediately releasing a sweet melody that seemed to be trapped inside. It's beautiful and peaceful... like Freddie's eyes.

"It's a music box…" I whisper.

"Yes, it is." He says.

"It's beautiful…"

The inside of the music box is red with another golden plate that says,_ Lilium_. It all seems so carefully planned and too perfect to be handmade. **(read A/N)**

"Lilium? What does that mean?" I ask him.

"It's the name of the melody. It means lily."

"Lily?" I smile, remembering how I told him this morning about the lilies. "Freddie… this is beautiful. It's perfect."

"Well, it's not so bad I guess." He shrugs.

"No! It's perfect. I've never… I never… I never had something so perfect." I say, running my fingers over my perfect gift. "You made it yourself?"

"Yeah." He says, blushing a little.

"How did you know how to do it?"

"My dad taught me."

"Wow… this is… this is… amazing."

I can't keep my eyes off my gift. And the music? My God, it's perfect… so perfect.

"You like it?" He asks softly, and I lift my eyes to see that he's looking away, probably embarrassed.

"I love it. It's the most precious thing I've ever had."

He looks at me and smiles. And that does it. I can't wait any longer. I can't deny this aching feeling inside of my chest and I can't keep pretending that I don't want this because I do. I want it so desperately, it hurts. He's so amazing and I couldn't have asked for any better. I don't want anyone else. With my free hand, I cup his cheek, rubbing my thumb against his skin like he did to me once before. My other hand abandons the music box on my lap to squeeze his shoulder.

I continue to caress his face and watch Freddie's eyes slowly close. I praise myself for being so strong and brave, but I've been a coward by denying myself what I want the most. But right here and now, I don't have a care in the world and everything that brought me here seems so small, so unimportant. Even though I have no idea of what I'm doing, I lean forward and press my lips to his.

For a moment, Freddie is tense. His hands remain on his sides and his lips are unmoving, but a second later he starts to put a light pressure against my lips and I can feel his hands on my knees. It's pure bliss, the way I can feel his soft lips pressed against mine and his hands on my bare knees set fire to my skin. But that's all I know how to do. I don't know how to kiss, I never did it before, so I just keep my mouth closed and my lips pressed against his. A few seconds later I pull away, watching him open his eyes like he just came to life.

"I don't know how to do it… I don't know how to kiss." I confess.

"Just… just follow me."

Freddie leans forward and presses his lips against mine, harder this time. With his bottom lip, he parts my lips and I gasp, able to taste him for the first time. It all feels so warm and wet, so foreign, but good. Really good. Our lips mingle together as we move and I can feel this heat in my chest, making it hard for me to breath. It's when I feel his tongue licking the edge of my mouth that I pull away, startled.

"Sorry… I'm sorry… I…"

"It's okay Sam." He says, running his fingers through my hair.

"I just… that felt…"

"Weird?"

"No… different."

"Different bad or different good?"

"Good." I decide. "Definitely good."

"It's okay, you know." He tells me, but I feel so stupid.

"It's good, I like it… can we try again?"

"Whenever you want." He tells me, caressing my face with the tip of his fingers.

"I want to now." I say, pressing my lips against his again.

We kiss slowly, he's patient and sweet and oh God, he taste like vanilla. Freddie's hand slide from my face to the back of my neck and I wrap my arms around his neck. I want him closer, I need to be closer to him, so I part my knees and pull him forward. I almost forget about the music box. It's still playing between us when I try to press myself against him.

His tongue makes its way back into my mouth, but I don't complain this time. I feel this incredibly strong warm feeling coming from the pit of my stomach, so I move my tongue to graze against his. I just wanted to taste him a little better, I wasn't expecting this to make my legs tingle.

Our lips fit perfectly together and our tongues seem to mingle and move at the same pace. I'm on fire and the scent coming from him... it's electrifying, intoxicating my lungs and filling my senses with him. If I knew a kiss could feel this good, I would have done it sooner, but it doesn't matter now… Oh God, the only thing on my mind is him and how good he tastes. I feel the warmth that began in my heart, travel down to the inside of my thighs, so I press against him a little harder, making him let out this little mewling sound that's just so sexy.

Both of us pull away together just because we're so out of breath. This kiss took the best of both of us, but I would have gone on forever if I didn't need to breath. I press my forehead against his, so we're still close to each other.

"That… that was…" He starts to speak, but it comes out more like a laugh.

"That was what?" I ask, a little concerned I was a bad kisser and he thought I was ridiculous.

"Unexpected and yet so amazing."

"I'm sorry if didn't know how to…"

"Hey…" He puts his finger under my chin, making my nose bump with his. "I'm still shaking from it. Aren't you?"

"Yeah… I kind of am."

He smiles at me and I can't help but kiss him again. Not with as much power and passion as before, just a light and simple kiss for the sake of feeling his lips against mine again. We pull back, but keep our hands on each other and our foreheads glued together.

"Sam… I…" He's about to say something when the doorbell rings.

"The door…" He sighs.

"Let's open it." I grab his hand, my music box and we go together.

Freddie smiles at me the whole time, almost bumping against furniture. I giggle and he puts his hands on the doorknob and turns. Outside, there's a man I've never seen before. He's dressed nicely and has a briefcase in one of his hands.

"Uh… how can I help you?" Freddie asks, putting me behind him.

"Goodnight, Mr. and Mrs. Benson. I'm Frank Ellis from Visualize."

**TBC**

* * *

><p><em>AN: Hello there my dear readers! Anyway, I have to explain a few things to ya. First, the music box Freddie made already exists; it's from this anime called "Elfen Lied" that I just love. I put the picture and the music on my profile, so you can hear it. Do it because it's perfect, literally adorable and because I sucked in describing it. Okay, second thing is, classes are starting for me Monday and I have to run some errands this last days to get everything ready, so I probably won't be updating anymore this week. I can try to do some writing on Saturday, but let's see how it goes. Okay, now I have one more free hour to fangirl about the Hunger Games. I don't know how many of you are into it, but I'm just going crazy over the Jen/Josh interview. So lame, I know. Okay, that's it. I hope you liked the chapter. Kisses! Gotta go!_

_**Editded by lizabenson (thank you so much)**_

* * *

><p><em>Elfen Lied – Lilium<em>


	13. Help Me Close My Eyes

**Genre:** _Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings: **_Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called__** Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

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><p>I looked down at my work proudly, admiring four days of waking up early and going to sleep past midnight. Four days of sleepless nights, worried that I might do something wrong. Those days are finally over, now whenever I open the box and listen to the sweet melody coming from inside, a warm, fluttery feeling would bubble inside me.<p>

Someone might wonder why I would make Sam something so girly like a music box, especially when she's not girly at all. Well, some people see it just as a music box, whereas I see a metaphor. Hard on the exterior, sweet and soft like a beautiful melody on the inside, that's how I see her. The music box was just my way of showing it, without words. It may seem stupid, but I could not think of a better way to tell her that.

Even though I thought that this idea was brilliant, I had my doubts on whether or not she would appreciate my gift. Figuring out women is something I have never tried to do – and never will. However, there is no going back now, the music box is ready to go and I have no time to come up with something else. I let out a heavy sigh. Grabbing the music box and placing it carefully inside the paper box, I took Sam's present with me.

I tried to be inconspicuous when I passed by the kitchen, trying to be smooth and not alert Sam of my presence. She was probably baking something, because the whole house smelled like heaven. Even though I was curious and wanted to take a whiff of the aroma, I restrained myself. I was sweaty and smelly from working all day long, my shirt soaked with sweat and my hair in a disheveled mess. That was not the way I wanted her to see me, and I desperately needed a good shower.

The clean towels are on the closet – where I never go. I have clothes there, but I never even saw them. I don't know why, I just thought the closet was Sam's territory and I wasn't allowed to go in there, so I usually wear the clothes that are on the dresser. Right now I need a clean towel, so I have no choice but to go in there.

The closet smelled faintly like rose soap. Sam's clothes were hanging on the left side of the closet, leaving the right side for me. I did not realize that I have not seen Sam in her new clothes yet; I did not want to be intrusive, so again despite my curiosity, I did not sneak a peek of her side of the closet. Though, I kept wishing she bought at least five different pairs of jeans. I liked seeing her majestic legs exposed when she wears a dress, it surprises me how someone could have such perfect legs, but I think the sight of her ass on a tight jeans might be very pleasant as well.

Shaking my head out of my perverted thoughts, I grabbed a fluffy white towel and dragged my ass to the bathroom. I took a quick shower and went back to the room. I needed to wrap the gift. Like I told the old man who sold me the stuff I needed, I could be careful enough with the paper, making a beautiful wrapper for Sam's gift. It was already dark outside, and I wanted to deliver her gift under the moonlight.

_Yeah, yeah, call me sappy._

I fixed the phonograph and chose a few records, in hope that after I gave her the gift; we could dance outside on the backyard. Just being near her like that would be good enough to compensate my other desires. I dared not think about those sorts of things anymore, because it was a dangerous path to walk, and I wanted to take the high road. I fixed the wrapper and went downstairs to for my wife.

* * *

><p>It was like destiny took matters in his own hands, leading Sam exactly to where I wanted her – the porch. I leaned against the doorframe, watching her as she played with the end of her skirt. She looked so damn fragile and cute when she does that, it's endearing. I considered my options. I could put on the music and give her the box, or I could give her the box and put on the music. If I put on the music now, she would not be able to hear the perfect melody I created for her… so I guessed I was going to put the music on later. I wiped the beads of sweat out of my hands on my jeans, I was so nervous, like a boy about to ask a girl to prom.<p>

"Hey, Sam?" I called.

"Oh… hi… I was wondering if you wanted to…" she stopped her tracks, looking down at my hands, at what I was holding. "What's that?"

"Your gift. I've finished this afternoon."

"So, that's what you were doing the whole day?"

"Yeah. And now, it's finished, so open up and tell me if you like it."

She was about to get up, but I motioned for her to stay put. With her sitting I could be closer to her, so I kneeled in front of her and placed the box on her lap.

"What is this? A doll house?" She smirked at me.

"No. It's not because if I remember well, you like to set fire at dollhouses." I chuckled. "And I couldn't have that."

"Okay, then. Let's open and see."

She smiled and started to undo the wrapper. I bit my lip, watching her opening my gift. My nerves were on the edge, I wanted her to like this so bad, so desperately. I could tell she's trying to be delicate, but honestly, it was just paper. She need not be so careful with it; she could just rip it off if she wanted.

"Sorry." she said, throwing the ripped paper wrapper on the floor.

"It's just paper." I shrugged.

"It's been so long since I've got a gift…"

"Well, this won't be the last." I promised her with a smile.

I watched her get rid of the paper and discovered what's inside the box. I was genuinely surprised by the look in her eyes when she first saw it. It shined with eager and happiness and I could not be happier to be the one who brought it to her.

"Open it." I told her.

The best part was inside. I wanted her to hear the melody; I wanted her to know what I think about her. I wanted her to know that to me, she is beautiful and strong on the outside, marvelous and soft on the inside.

"It's a music box…" She whispered.

"Yes, it is." I said.

"It's beautiful…"

_Like you._ I thought, but did not say it out loud.

"Lilium? What does that mean?" She asked me.

"It's the name of the melody. It means lily."

"Lily?" Sam smiled, looking lost in her thoughts for a while. "Freddie… this is beautiful. It's perfect."

"Well, it's not so bad I guess." I shrugged.

I couldn't help but thought of some improvements, some details that could have been done better.

"No! It's perfect. I've never… I never… I never had something so perfect." She said, running her fingers over the details, and I wished I had done it better.

"You made it yourself?"

"Yeah." I admitted, trying not to blush.

"How did you know how to do it?"

"My dad taught me."

"Wow… this is… this is… amazing."

She kept looking at the box, making me feel a little nervous.

_Is she thinking it's too girly? That I'm so stupid for giving her that? Does she really like it?_

"You like it?" I asked softly, looking away. For some reason I could not meet her eyes.

"I love it. It's the most precious thing I've ever had."

I had to smile. I have never given someone something _precious ._I was never the one to bring joy to someone's eyes. It was a good feeling, almost surreal. She reached for my cheek, cupping my face gently and running her thumb in circles over my flesh. Suddenly my knees went weak and I was so glad to be kneeling on the floor. I could feel the light pressure of her fingers on my skin, making it burn ever so slightly. With her other hand, she squeezed my shoulder, sending a strong shiver down my spine.

The feeling was so good, so great – it's perfect. I close my eyes, trying to savor each and every second of it, before it ends. With Sam, I would never know when she would be open for this kind of gesture, so I just appreciated what I have gotten. I have learnt to never take anything or anyone for granted; the little moments make the best memories. I hated to think I let anything pass.

I was caught by surprise once I feel a pair of soft lips pressing against mine. I opened my eyes in shock, thinking something probably must be wrong. What I see was Sam's face, against mine – nose with nose, lips with lips – her eyes closed. I tensed up, because I did not enjoy being caught by surprise by anyone or anything. This only lasted a moment, as soon as I realized what she was doing, my body filled with joy and I started to respond.

I pressed my lips against hers softly, placing my hands on her knees so I could balance myself. I hoped she would not feel uncomfortable with my hands there. The bare skin of her knee was so soft, and I wonder if she was also soft… _everywhere else._ Most probably, because in my dreams and fantasies, she had the softest, most perfect, skin of all. I was only able to enjoy a few seconds of it as she withdraws too soon. I needed more of this feeling, of this closeness. As selfish as this may sound, I was not satisfied.

"I don't know how to do it… I don't know how to kiss." She confessed, almost too embarrassed to admit.

I opened my eyes, and saw that she looked so vulnerable, I could not decide if I wanted to attack her mouth or cradle her.

"Just… just follow me." I said because I needed more of this, and I knew I would not be able to sleep if I do not get a taste of her.

I leaned forward, pressing my lips against her again. This was all so sweet, but what I needed inside. I needed her taste, to feel the warmth of her mouth and the wetness of her tongue. _I just needed that._

With my bottom lip I parted hers and our lips mingle, making her gasp. She tasted exactly like I thought she would; sweet. I can taste the cupcake on her mouth, so I lick my way in, and that's when she pulled away.

"Sorry… I'm sorry… I…" She stammered.

I did not mean to push her, or cross any lines. I just really wanted a little more and went for it.

_Stupid move, Freddie! Now she feels guilty for something it's not even her fault!_

"It's okay Sam." I said, running my fingers through her hair.

I wanted to act cool for her, because if I freaked out, she'll freak out too.

"I just… that felt…"

"Weird?"

"No… different."

"Different bad or different good?"

"Good." She pondered for a second. "Definitely good."

"It's okay, you know."

"It's good, I like it… can we try again?"

"Whenever you want."

I caressed her face with the tips of my fingers, just wanting to appreciate the beauty in front of my eyes. I think it's sweet, and sexy, how innocent she seemed, without noticing. She doesn't even know what she does to me.

"I want to, now."

Sam was quick to press her lips back against mine. The kiss was slow, and sweet. That gave me more time to familiarize with her taste. I slid my hand to the back of her neck, wanting to tangle my fingers in her hair, and she wrapped her arms around my neck. When she parted her knees and pulled me closer, I felt these Goosebumps at the pit of my stomach, threatening to make my body temperature rise. She pressed herself against me, wanting to be closer. I could feel her soft, yet firm, breasts pressing against my chest and it was almost too much.

I licked my way back into her mouth, and she responded this time, meeting my tongue with hers, with the same passionate intensity. Suddenly, the room temperature felt unbearably hot. The air, which was once fresh, became hot and heavy. I was thinking about nothing, but her. She filled my senses, my mind, and my body. Sam pressed herself a little harder against me and I lost my composure. This little mewling sound escaped my lips, as a proof of my desire for her.

I just wanted to do this forever, but I was running out of breath and I could tell she was too. We pulled away together; Sam pressed her forehead against mine. The kiss must have been longer than it seemed because we were both panting heavily. No amount of time could ever be enough for me; this feeling… this thing that I was so afraid to let in was taking over me and becoming so addictive. I just needed more and the more I get, the more I need.

"That… that was…"

I did not even try to explain what just happened, it was beyond me. No words came to mind, and I laughed at my own expense, for being so dumb. I was usually never at loss for words, but then again, I have never been this hormonal.

"That was what?"

"Unexpected and yet so amazing."

"I'm sorry if didn't know how to…"

"Hey…" I put my finger under her chin, lifting her head up. "I'm still shaking from it. Aren't you?"

"Yeah… I kind of am."

I smiled and she kissed me again. This was going to be something regular I believed… And it was more than okay with me. We kept our foreheads pressed together after the kiss ended. I liked the way her skin feels against mine.

"Sam… I…"

I wanted to tell her how much I enjoyed the kiss. I wanted to say she could kiss me whenever she wanted. And I wanted to ask for some more if that was okay, but the doorbell rang. I mentally scold whoever it was behind that door, it better not be Brad, or else I was going to break his face.

"The door…" I sighed.

"Let's open it." She grabbed me by the hand and carried the music box with her.

_I'm so stupid_.

I wanted to keep looking at her walk at the same time. Bottom line was: yes, it did not work. I must have bumped into every piece of furniture that was in my way, but I did not take my eyes off her, not even when I turned the doorknob.

The only thing that took my mind off Sam was the man standing on my doorstep. Before us, there was this stranger, this man I have never seen in my life. My survivor instincts kicked in and I hid Sam behind me. Whatever happens, I could take the blow for her, and I knew she thinks she is strong and all; but I was more than prepared for this. I have been trained for this.

When the man made no sudden moves, I decided it was time to ask him who he was.

"Uh… how can I help you?"

"Goodnight, Mr. and Mrs. Benson. I'm Frank Ellis from Visualize."

* * *

><p>I could feel Sam's hand shaking. I knew how she felt about Visualize people. The guy seemed less menacing compare to the previous one. Frank Ellis was a tall, skinny man; all dressed up and carried a briefcase. Even if he had a gun with him, whom I did not doubt – he is from Visualize. I could take him down. I was probably two times bigger than him. Both of his skinny arms were not even enough against one of mine, and even though he was from that God forsaken company, I was trained to kill. And I could do that, without blinking, if the occasion calls for it.<p>

"What do seek here?" I asked, sharply, showing him that I do not take bullshit.

"I'm here for the monthly visit. You know about it, right? It's in the book of laws." He explained.

"I wasn't aware of this visit here, today."

"We make our hours Mr. Benson."

He had this way about him, which I did not like. For starters, he spoke like a pretentious jerk, and I do not like pretentious jerks. And secondly, he held his head up high, but not the way Sam did on our wedding day. He did it to show us that he was above us, that his position granted him powers we were not allowed to have. And he was from Visualize; I did not think I would have needed any other reasons.

"Will any of the visits be scheduled?" I crossed my arm against my chest.

"Like I said before, Mr. Benson, we make our hours. Can I come in now? It's getting colder by the second out here."

He smirked, so I stepped aside and let him in. I realized that Sam had not said a word since I opened the door. I looked at her and had a little flashback. My mind went back to our first night as a new couple. She looked cornered and scared, but so feral and deadly, ready to fight for her life. Although she was silent, the look in her eyes told me that she did not appreciate this stranger coming into our house and interrupting our moment.

Frank made himself at home, going into the living room without being invited. I took one of Sam's hands and squeezed it.

"Hey." I whispered, making Sam take her eyes off Ellis' backs. "There is nothing to fear. He is going to ask us some questions, we are going to answer it, and then he'll leave okay?"

"I'm not scared." She wiggled her hand from my grip. "I just don't like strangers."

"I thought you just didn't like people."

I did not mean to say that out loud, it just slipped. Sam caught my eye and glared at me.

"That's true." She admitted. "Let's get this over with."

"Alright."

We grabbed each other's hands and went into the living room. Frank was sitting on our couch and I thought about the many times I wanted to burn down that thing. Right now, it was on the top of my priority list. Maybe I would do it after he left. Sam and I took our seats in each armchair. I wished we could be closer so I could hold her hand, so I moved my armchair closer to her.

"Fredward and Samantha Benson. Married in May."

He read from this big book I did not notice him taking out from his briefcase.

"I'm going to ask you routine question Mr. and Mrs. Benson, you have duty to answer them all, telling nothing but the truth."

My hand reached out for Sam's, and she did not need to look at me to know what I wanted. Soon, our fingers wrapped around each other and it felt much better to know that I was not going through this alone.

"I'm going to record this meeting, just like every meeting we'll be having from now on."

"Wait? How many meetings we'll have?" Sam asked.

"Many, Mrs. Benson. Well, until Visualize decides you both are a stable couple."

Stable? I have never been stable in my life. If Visualize wanted a stable couple, they would not force strangers to get married. This was so stupid and apparently Sam thought so too. I could feel her squeezing my hand a little tighter. As he said he would, Frank took a recorder from his briefcase, and started to record our conversation.

"This being the first interview of the new couple, we're going to do this just once. Next month, I will talk to the husband first, and then I'll talk to the wife."

We nodded, and Frank cleared his throat.

"Remember, no questions must be avoided." He said, crossing his legs. "Mr. Benson, you're the first to go."

"Alright."

"What do you think about your spouse? Did Visualize succeeded in choosing for you?"

"Yes. I think she is a great spouse." I said, giving Sam a reassuring smile, she smiled back very quickly.

"Does your spouse fulfill her duties as a wife, housewife and companion?"

"Yes, she does that very well."

"Does your wife satisfy your needs as a husband, a man and a progenitor?"

_What kind of question is that?_

Was he even allowed to ask these kinds of things? I fell Sam's palm sweating and I knew why. She had been nervous about consummating the wedding since she first came here. This only made me angrier.

"Yes Mr. Ellis, my wife satisfies my every need." I said, almost too harshly.

He merely smiled at me, like the cocky bastard he was.

"Does your spouse behave adequately in your presence and in the presence of others?"

"Yes."

He kept asking absurd questions and I limited my answers to a simple yes or no. These people got some balls, coming into other people houses and sniffing around their lives. After everything they already took over, they had the balls to invade people's privacy and make it public? My face must have been red with rage, and I felt Sam rubbing her thumb against the palm of my hand. She must have notice how tense I was and that I was about to kill this man before me.

"Are your spouse's cooking skills satisfying to your taste?"

"Yes. Very so."

"Are your spouse's looks satisfactory to you?"

"Yes." I said with a smile, because honestly, I was more than satisfied.

"Is the couple already trying for spawns?"

The question stroked me. I knew we were supposed to have kids within the first six months, but that did not mean I was prepared to talk about any of that. My eyes must have been too wide by now, because Frank gave me a look that says _well?_

"No… uh we're still… waiting to see what happens." I said, swallowing dry, biting the inside of my lip.

"Do you think your wife will be a capable progenitor?"

"Yes." I said; sweat starting to roll down my temple.

"Does your spouse show signs of being a good mother?"

"Yeah… she does."

"Do you think she'll be a good mother?"

"I'm sure she will."

He asked Sam the same questions he asked me, but I did not pay attention to her answers. She was surprisingly calm, while I was freaking out on the inside. I zoned out through her entire interview, I honestly had no idea what her answers were. I just kept thinking about kids and how I did not want them. I could not bring my kids into a world where their lives would be controlled, where they would not have the liberty to be who they wanted to be or to be with who they wanted to. I could not do that to another human being, not when I had my life taken away and I know how much it hurts.

An hour later, I'm opened the door for Frank to leave. Thank God because I might have been on the verge of hyperventilating.

"I'll be back here next month to check up on you Mr. and Mrs. Benson… and if you don't mind me asking… what's that?"

He pointed at Sam's music box, the one she kept clutching the entire time.

"It's a music box. Freddie made it for me." She said; dry as sand in the desert.

"Lovely."

He gave us one more look before taking off in the middle of the night, like a dark shadow.

* * *

><p>"Sam you need to calm down."<p>

Sam freaking out actually stopped me from going bananas. As soon as Frank left, she sank to the ground, repeating _they knew, they knew, they knew. _Somehow she thought they knew we have not consummated the wedding, which they could not know, but she did not seem to hear me when I said that. She even tried to burn the clothes I bought her, saying we pissed them off by getting her new outfits. I got her to go upstairs with me and we changed into our pajamas. Still, she could not stop saying that they knew what happened between us – or did not.

All of her freaking out actually helped me calm down. I did not need both of us freaking, and for her sake, I brought myself to peace so I could be more useful. I kept thinking about the kiss we shared not even a couple of hours ago, and that helped me relax my nerves. I was not about to tell Sam to think about that too, so I was trying my best to keep her from burning her clothes or whatever.

"I can't calm down Freddie!" She yelled. "I told you, didn't I? This people are not joking around Freddie! Why don't you get that? After everything I've been through I just want some peace!"

"Sam. Sam…" I tried to grab her by the arm, but she dodged me. "Listen to me…"

"All I wanted was to be left alone, now this guys shows up asking all of this questions… it can't be a coincidence Freddie! They are not fucking around!"

"Sam… will you stop please?" I asked softly, but I was seriously losing my cool at that moment.

"They are onto us! They are onto me! It's only a matter of time before they find out we are not doing the deed, and then the shit will hit the vent! I bet they have bugs all around the house!"

Her conspiracy theories triggered and before I know it, I was grabbing her by the arms and shaking her.

"Will you stop it?" I yelled.

Sam's eyes are wide with shock, and I let go of her instantly, taking a step back. I was so ashamed of myself; I did not want to hurt her… I did not mean to yell… I was just so nervous and she was not helping.

"I'm… sorry… I'm so sorry Sam…" I stutter. "I didn't mean it… Oh God…"

I ran my hands over my face and through my hair. I rubbed my face over and over again, blurting out apologetic words.

"I'm so sorry!"

"I'll never do that again!"

"I didn't mean it!"

There it went, on and on and on – me, apologizing without stopping. Sam rushed forward, and I thought she was about to kick my ass. I silently prayed she would, because then she would forgive me for what I had done. I was always afraid to get violent, to cross my limits and do something stupid, especially when there are people around. I did not want to hurt anyone else. It would absolutely kill me if I ever did hurt her.

She grabbed my face in between her hands and gave me the hardest, most thorough, kiss I have ever experienced in my life. Her tongue invaded my mouth, assaulting me without warning, without asking for permission. She backed me up against the wall, so hard it hurt, and kissed the life out of me. Now I could feel how perfectly our bodies fit together. I placed my hands on her waist and brought her even closer to me. I could feel her lower body pressed against mine and if this kiss did not stop now, I don't think I would be able to put an end to it.

Sam pulled away from me, like my skin was on fire or something.

"Stop…" She said in between breaths, "saying you're sorry…" we were both panting pretty hard, "all the time." She smirked a little. "It's really annoying. And you sound like a dweeb who just pee his new pair of pants."

I laughed and run my hands through her hair.

"Come on, let's get some sleep. We both have work in the morning."

She climbed onto the bed and threw the comforter over her legs. Seems like my outburst brought her back from the loony place she was in. Sam patted the spot beside her on the bed, and I climbed next to her. Once I was settled under the covers, she placed her head on chest and one of my arms around her.

"Is this okay?" She whispered.

"Yes… more than okay actually." I said, turning off the light.

"I'm sorry I freaked out, I'm just… trying to stay alive I guess."

"Sam, it's okay. You want to know a secret?"

"Yes."

"I was freaking out too."

"But you looked so calm…"

"You freaking out helped me relax."

"How so?" She lifted her head up, resting her chin on chest, and gave me a threatening look.

"I just needed to stay sane for you. Both of us freaking out wouldn't do you any good."

She did not smile, but stretched over to kiss me softly on the lips.

"Thank you, Freddie. Not just for that, but for everything, for the music box too. I loved it."

"I'm glad you did."

She rested her head back on my chest.

"I like this sound." She whispered, I guess more to herself than me.

"What sound?"

"Your heart, beating."

I smiled and closed my eyes, drifting to sleep. I had never felt so relax before, and with her in my arms right now, all of our problems seemed so small. Everything seemed to have a lesser importance compared to that very moment. Sleep caught up with me, and then everything was a blur.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Sorry it took so long, but classes started and there are so many things to do. I'm sorry guys, I'll try to be faster with the updates. I'll try to writ some tomorrow, I'm just really sleepy right now._

**_Edited by Cheryl-Seddie_**

* * *

><p><em>Those Dancing Days – Help Me Close My Eyes.<em>


	14. Best For Last

**Genre:** _Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings: **_Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called__** Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

* * *

><p>"Well, I just finished placing the cupcakes on the shelves." I told Meg.<p>

"Alright kid. Why don't you go change and head home?"

"Okay, thank you."

I untied my apron and head for the bathroom and see Toby inside brushing her hair. I remember I still have to have dinner at Carly's… Don't get me wrong, I kind of like her and all, but this is not how I want to spend Friday night. Since the first time Freddie and I kissed, it seems to me that all I want to do is spend hours making out with him again. We share a few chaste kisses during the morning, some more passionate kisses during the night, but other than that, nothing.

I'm not in a hurry to go down that path yet, but there are several indications that show me that it's going to happen sooner than later. Sometimes when we are together, I feel this hunger, this hot feeling on the pit of my stomach. It feels like it's threatening to spread all over my body and spill out of my being. It's like a flood of feelings - and I'm trapped inside, constantly trying to control it all. I'm always trying to keep it from surfacing. Eventually it all gets bottled up and I have to pull away and breathe.

"We're good for tonight?" Toby asks me.

"Huh?"

"Dinner?"

"Oh… right… sure."

I forgot she'll be there too. Toby gives me a sly smile and a smirk, before grabbing her purse.

"See you there goldie locks!" She blows me a kiss and leaves.

I groan silently, letting my hair down and grabbing a brush from my locker. I've noticed Freddie likes my hair more when it's loose and cascading down my shoulders. He's developed this weird, yet adorable, thing where he silently plays with my curls at night. Everything about him is so soothing and sweet to me. Usually that would be a bad thing, but somehow it isn't.

I finished combing my hair and collect my things, throwing them inside my purse. There's this small mirror inside my locker, I check myself to see if everything is in order. Despite my _okay _appearance, I still need a shower. Freddie will be home within an hour and I need to get ready for dinner. I fix my hair one last time and close my locker. The thought of going home is painful and eager at the same time. For one, I'll have to go and have dinner with a bunch of people, when all I want is to spend time alone with Freddie. But at the same time, I'll be able to take a long, hot shower and see Freddie.

Lately, I find myself giddy and excited to see him. It's stupid. I blame that music box. Every now and then, when he's not around, I open the music box just to hear the sweet melody he made for me. Why he decided to make me a music box, of all things… it's a mystery. I can't say he failed to surprise me though, in a good way.

I leave the bathroom and make my way through the kitchen, where Markus is cleaning the stove. He's so very weird, but as Toby said before, harmless. He's kind of goofy and much too tall. He's so tall that he has to bend over to be able to talk to other people, causing him to have this slightly curved lump on his back.

"Goodnight Sam." He calls over his shoulder.

"Night Markus. Take it easy, alright."

"Sure thing boss ma'am!"

I laugh it off and finally leave the bakery, waving goodbye to Meg. I'm not going to lie… at first, working in a bakery didn't seem alluring to me at all. But I grew fond of my job and now I don't even groan in the mornings anymore. I've learnt so many cool things, it's incredible. I almost don't mind coming to work every day. Sure, it sucks to wake up early in the morning, but at least I'm not alone at home getting bored everyday, like I imagine Carly is. Poor thing, stuck in that house all day, every day, it must suck.

* * *

><p>As I imagined, Freddie isn't home yet, so I decided to take the time to take a bath. I've never used a bathtub before, and honestly I've always been curious about it. After filling the tub, I undressed and tested the water to see if it's okay. I put my right foot in first, then the left, bending my keens and grabbing onto the sides of the bathtub, so I can lower myself and sit.<p>

The water surrounds my body, and I find myself really fond of baths instead of showers. I lean my head back and close my eyes, relaxing after a tiring day of work. I can't even imagine how Freddie feels every day; his work is much harder than mine. With my right hand, I rub my neck repeatedly, realizing how much I want a massage. Would Freddie be willing to give me one if I ask? Does he even know how? He's always careful with the way he touches me, I like how his hands feel.

Twenty minutes later I'm sitting at my horrible vanity, brushing my hair. My music box is open, playing the song I've come to like so much. I think about Freddie and how sweet he looked the day he gave me this. Sometimes I spend hours wondering how come the war didn't turn him into a monster. Maybe some people just happen to have more self control then others. Either that or he's just a good person by nature.

I've chosen a green dress with a blue cardigan, because I need to mingle tonight. Freddie thinks it's important for me to make friends and get to know Carly better. I have to confess; other than Freddie, I don't really talk much with people. I've never liked people, especially strange people… but if this is important to him, I'll give it a try. I'm smoothing my hair when I spot his reflection in my mirror, leaning against the doorframe and looking at me adorably.

Freddie smiles and his dimples make a brief appearance. I'm about to turn around and greet him when he walks forward and wraps his arms around my torso. I lean back against him, already getting accustomed to the feeling of his hard chest against my back. My hands, as if they have a life of their own, rest above his and I lean my head to rest on the crook of his shoulder. He has this lump, a muscle I think, which I'm not familiar with the name, right where his shoulder and neck meet. Its rock hard and I'd like to put my hands there and squeeze it.

"Hi." He says, kissing the side of my head.

"Hey you." I can't help but smile at him as he kisses my cheek.

"Hey yourself. How was your day?"

Before I can answer, his lips come down softly against my neck, sending a shiver down my spine and increasing this warm feeling I get in my chest every time we are together. I sigh, and nuzzle his neck.

"It was okay, nothing major. How was yours?"

"…the same old thing. Are you ready for dinner?"

"Ugh… do you we really have to go?" I whine.

"Come on Sam, we talked about this before. It'll be good, and if it's not you just have to say the word and we're out of there."

"Alright… I guess I can hang on for one night."

"Great. Now, I've got you something." He says, giving a final kiss on the side of my head before letting go of me.

Sometimes, when he pulls away from me I feel incredibly cold, abandoned. Then I remember he's not going anywhere and I can finally relax again. I turn around and lean against the vanity, watching Freddie stick his hand inside his pocket. He takes out this thin blue box, and wiggles it in front of my face.

"What's that?"

"It's just a little something for you." He says, opening the box. "I realized you didn't have any jewelry, and I know you don't care, but I just thought a little something wouldn't hurt."

He shows me this golden necklace, with a tiny butterfly locket. It's small and discrete, yet totally gorgeous. Usually I don't like jewelry, or don't care too much about it to have an opinion, but this one it's… cute I guess. Still, I feel uncomfortable that he'd spent money on me again, especially buying me something so unnecessary. I'd be fine with a box filled with fatcakes or a bucket of fried chicken.

"Freddie. You know you don't have to buy me stuff, especially expensive stuff. I don't even care about jewelry."

"I know, I know. And I also know I shouldn't have, but when I saw it… I don't know… I just saw you in it and couldn't keep from buying it. You understand?"

I shake my head. "No I don't… I'd be fine with a bucket of fried chicken."

"I know… but a bucket of fried chicken wouldn't last as long as this. I'm sorry… I don't know what I was thinking. You know what…? It's okay, I'll just return it and give you the money, and then you can buy as many buckets of fried chicken as you wish."

His voice is soothing, and calm, but I can hear a hint of disappointment right on the edge. He was just trying to give me a nice gift, it isn't a big deal. I should be thankful for it, not reacting like this.

"No… you don't have to." I say, holding his wrists before he can put the necklace back inside the box. "I was just saying that you don't have to feel obligated to spend money on me, that's all."

"But I don't. I did it because I wanted to, not because I had to."

"Okay then, if it's like that, why don't you put it on me?"

I turned around and gather up my hair, so he can put the necklace on me. I watch his eyes light up a bit, as he places the golden necklace around my neck. It feels cold and foreign against my skin, it weighs almost nothing, but it feels so different. I guess that's something I must add to the list of things I had never experienced before. Freddie ran his thumb over my neck and I shivered again. I guess my neck it's extremely sensitive. He leaned down and kisses it, as if giving me confirmation that that's my weak spot.

"Looks great on you." He murmurs against my skin.

"Yeah, it does…"

He puts his arms back around me; I sigh, and turn around to face him. His big brown eyes look at me with tenderly, and I wonder what I ever did to deserve this. I've never been well behaved, or polite, let alone nice… I've never been good… not like Melanie. Then, why did I get Freddie while she got… that? Didn't she deserve more than what she got? Didn't she deserve this instead of me? And why did I get to be so happy when she has to deal with misery? I don't understand why things can't be the other way around.

"Whatcha thinking about?" He asks me with that low, soothing voice.

"Nothing."

"I don't believe you." He whispers, rubbing circles on my back.

"Nothing, really. Just how lucky I got… that's all."

"Well, you must know I've got lucky too." Freddie kisses the tip of my nose and I sigh.

"Yeah, but you're good and you deserve it… I don't."

"Sam…"

He unwraps his arms of my waist and takes my hands in his, kissing them both.

"Don't ever let anyone, or anything, make you feel like you don't deserve what you want, or what you've got."

"Okay."

I don't argue because it can take hours, and hours, and I'm not in the mood for a fight. I simply let my actions speak for me, as I lean forward to press my lips against his. Freddie responds immediately, wrapping his arms around me again and bringing me closer to him.

His body it's strong and firm, like a rock, it makes me feel safe when I'm pressed up against him like this. It makes me feel protected, and for a moment I allow myself to be weak, because I know that if I fall, he'll be there to catch me. He presses me against the vanity, and I feel that thing again, that warmth coming from the core of my being. The way his hands firmly grip my waist, and the way his mouth moves, makes me feel as if I'm on fire.

I let him push his tongue inside my mouth, and greet his with mine. It all feels too good, sucking lips, groping hands, heavy breaths, it almost feels too much. I dig my nails into his nape, and his hands squeeze my waist a little tighter. Freddie lifts me up with one arm and places me gently over the vanity. I feel my heart racing and my hands starting to sweat. He tangles his hand in my hair and the other sneaks inside my dress, squeezing the bare skin of my thigh.

Before I can do anything to stop it, this soft moan escapes my lips, causing him to pull away. Hi hair is disheveled, his lips are swollen, but the look on his face tells me he is okay. Without a word, he takes my face in his hands and kisses me again, soft and sweet. I part my knees a little bit further so he can fit between my legs. I guess that must've trigged him, because he grabs onto my backside to pull me flush against him. And then I feel it, hot and hard pressure against my thigh. It's coming from him, from inside his pants.

I think about my next move carefully. I don't want him to feel bad, or upset with himself, so if I'm going to pull away I have to pretend I'm not freaking out. It's hard to do so, when his hands are all over the place, making every bit of my body burn and ache for more, but if I let him keep going, this will end up some place else. And I don't know if I'm ready for it. I push his shoulders gently, breaking the kiss. I realize that if he looks like a gigantic mess, I must be too.

"We uh… dinner… we have to go… to dinner." I say between breaths.

"Oh… you're right…" He takes his hands off me and runs them through his hair. "I'm going to take a quick shower and be downstairs in a few, okay?"

"Okay."

He kisses my forehead before going straight to the bathroom. I know he acted like everything was okay, but I can see clearly that he is pissed, not at me but at himself for letting things go this far. As much as I want things to keep going, this fear in the pit of my stomach doesn't let me get anywhere passed the heated kisses we sometimes share. I scold myself over and over again for being such a coward; he's my husband for crying out loud, a great husband by the way. He's already proved to me more than once that I don't have to fear him, that he won't hurt me and still, here I am… being a gigantic coward.

I brush my hair again and smooth my dress, while going downstairs to wait for him. I get the pie from the fridge and fight the urge to eat it. I sit on the couch and remember the feel of his body pressed against mine and how good I feel when he kisses me. This is stupid, if I have to give myself to someone, it might as well be to him. No one else could be better, there's no one better than him. Besides, I'm running out of time, my doctor's appointment is getting closer and closer every day, and after that man's visit…

"Ready to go?" Freddie calls, waking me up from my thoughts.

"Sure."

I pick up my purse and left my mournful thoughts behind, grabbing onto Freddie's hand and heading for the door. I look up to him and he smiles, then I think, what the hell I'm afraid of?

* * *

><p>Freddie knocks on Carly's door and I'm so thankful to have my fingers intertwined with his. He makes me feel secure; makes me feel like even if I do something wrong, things will be okay. I don't really care about what anyone thinks, just him… somehow. I care about his opinion. That's why I'm here today; it's the only reason why I'm going through with this. He smiles at me, encouraging me, telling me, without words, that it will be alright.<p>

"It'll be okay, Sam. And remember, if you want to leave, just say the word and we're out." He says, bringing my hand to his lips and kissing it softly.

"Okay." I nod, and smile back at him.

He's so… adorable, and although I always despised this particular quality, somehow, it doesn't bother me when it comes from him.

"Hey guys, I'm so glad you could make it!" Carly squeals, swinging the door open.

It's not that I don't like the girl, she is nice, but sometimes, that high pitched voice irritates me so much. Maybe I should do what Mel always said, maybe I should look past the exterior of a person, if I can see what's inside… maybe I'll find something worthy of my time.

"Hey Carly." Freddie greets her, handing her the bottle of wine.

"Hey." I say simply.

"I'm glad you guys could make it. Come on in, everyone else's already inside."

Glad to know that… oh wait… I'm not! I sigh after she leaves, and before I can step inside the house, Freddie yanks me back gently.

"Sam, we don't have to do this. Really, I don't care. I can have guy time with Brad any day. If it bothers you, it bothers me. We don't have to do it."

For some reason, I like when he says _we. _Not me and you, not you, not me… but _we. _It makes me feel… oddly comfortable, as if I'm not alone anymore. I'm not a _me _anymore, I'm a_we…_it doesn't make any sense…

"I can do this. You are right Freddie, I need to be more sociable, and we're already here."

He gives me this _are you sure _looks, so I nod and kiss him quickly.

"Yes, I'm sure. Now can we please get inside? I'm starving!"

"Alright!" He laughs and kisses the side of my head. "Okay. But say the word…"

"And we're out." I finish his sentence. "I know."

"Kay…"

Freddie steps inside the house, taking me with him by the hand. When we get to the living room, everyone else stops to stare at us, and their eyes drop to our joined hands. Brad offers Freddie a smile, and his eyes look almost relived. Gibby and Wendy smile at each other and lean a bit closer. I guess I don't have to fear her anyway… Toby just gives me her trademark smirk, and her husband… he sneezes. I guess now I know why she calls him Germy.

"So, Sam… you want to give me the pie so I can put on the fridge?" Carly asks while coming out of the kitchen.

"Sure, here you go." I hand her the pie and she smiles, also noticing that Freddie and I are holding hands.

"Do you guys want to hold off dinner and get a drink?" Brad asks.

"No, we're pretty hungry." Freddie says, bumping shoulders with me playfully.

"Okay, then, let's go to the dining room."

Brad leads us to the dining room, where Carly is already waiting for us. I should offer to help her set the table or something; it's the polite thing to do.

"Do you want help with setting the table Carly?" I ask her flatly.

"Oh, Sam, that's so sweet of you… okay, I would like that…" She seems surprised with my offer.

"You want us to help too?" Wendy asks.

"Hey, I'm good here girly. Speak for yourself." Toby says, making me want to chuckle.

Wendy doesn't seem to mind, only shrugging off Toby's rude comment. I guess she's on _the good girls' _team.

"Oh, there's no need Wendy, Sam will help me and we'll be right back."

Wendy nods and Carly motions for me to follow her into the kitchen. Freddie kisses my hand before releasing it almost unwillingly.

"I'll be right back." I tell him in a soft whisper.

"I'll be waiting." He assures me and then I go.

Carly's kitchen is the same as mine, so boring. I think it's time to paint the kitchen walls too. She has cute little dishrags, with pigs on it, cows and everything. It suits her, if you ask me. She leads me in and I ask myself if I should just go there and open the fridge. Maybe not… it's not polite I guess. Not that I care at all.

"So Sam…" She opens the fridge and hands me a tray of salad. "You and Freddie… is everything okay there?"

"Yeah, we're good."

"Great, because I think he really likes you and it would be totally great if you liked him back."

"I do… I like him back."

I'm not really sure why I just admitted something so private to a stranger, but somehow she made me feel oddly comfortable... comfortable enough to open up.

"That's good!" She offers me a genuine smile and we go out to put the food on the table.

We finish dinner, but remain at the table, eating my pie. Everyone says how good it tastes and I try not to blush. Under the table, I hold Freddie's hand and he plays with my fingers. It's such a simple gesture, yet so intimate. No one has ever played with my fingers before, but then again, I've never held a boy's hand before.

A _boy…_he doesn't feel like one, but he sure is still. Even if his childhood got lost in the war, even if he didn't have a normal adolescence, he's still an eighteen year old boy. And I'm a girl, a teenage girl, with sappy feelings for this particular teenage boy. It only occurs to me now, that Freddie is the first boy I've ever liked… I like him, and I know I admitted before, but it seems more real now. But do I like him enough to give him something I'll never get back?

"So Wendy? How was your first impression of Gibby?" Brad's voice brings me back to earth.

"Oh, our story is actually interesting." Gibby says, kissing Wendy's nose.

"Please, tell us about it." Carly says.

"Well…" Wendy starts, grinning at Gibby. "We met a few years ago."

"Yes. I was on a mission in Seattle when… and Wendy was in an underground base…"

"There was an attack, then an explosion. I was knocked out, and when I woke up everyone was gone. I couldn't get up because of the steel door over my legs…"

"And I heard her scream from miles away. I wanted to go back, but my friends told me to stay put, that it was a cat. But I just couldn't, I knew somehow I was supposed to go there."

"So, when I thought I was about to die, that no one would come back for me… he showed up."

"I did the best I could to take the door off her and carried her outside."

"The moment we were out… everything crumbled down."

"After that I took her to the doctors, but I had to leave for my next location that same night."

"And we didn't even know each other's name…"

"But I never stopped wondering if she was okay…"

"And I never stopped thinking about him…"

"So, when we met again, on the day of our wedding."

"I was so happy." Wendy rubs her nose against Gibby's.

"We were so happy." He leans forward and kisses her.

Everyone in the room stares while they kissed. They shared a very nice story and they were lucky to find each other again. I couldn't believe this sort of thing just happened… it doesn't, not in real life. This story belongs in a book or an old movie, not in real life because in reality, good things don't happen.

Freddie squeezes my hand and I look at him. He smiles, and his eyes smile too. Maybe people do get lucky, if I got lucky, then other people can get lucky too… maybe good things do happen.

"It's a lovely story Wendy." Carly says.

"Yeah, I know."

"Talking about lovely… this pie is great Sam, really." Toby adds, with a mouthful of pie.

"Oh yeah…" Gibby says. "I think you just got yourself new costumers."

"Totally." Wendy agrees.

"Well, you should taste her cupcakes." Freddie says, bumping shoulders with me. "They are from heaven."

"Oh come on… they're just regular cupcakes." I say in my defense.

"You should make them at the bakery Sam," Toby suggests, taking another bite of pie, "I bet Meg would love that."

"Yeah, Sam, I think that if they taste half as good as this pie, you should sell them there. It would be a success." Brad says.

"I don't know…"

"Come on, Sam, they're really good." Freddie assures me.

"Alright… maybe I'll talk to Meg tomorrow."

"That's my girl!"

Freddie gives me a quick kiss on the forehead, and I know people are staring, but right now I don't really care. He looks so proud that I took a stand, made a decision… took a chance. I decided right here and now, that I like to see him proud of me.

"Do you need help with the dishes?" Wendy asked.

"No, no. You don't have to; I'll just do them later."

"It's not a big deal." She shrugs.

"I didn't remember you being so helpful before." Freddie jokes. "Not in school, no, not when you used to throw golf balls at soccer girls."

"You did that?" I ask.

"Yeah… but I worked off my issues and eventually grew out of that."

"I did that too… every Friday." I say, finally finding someone, besides Freddie, slightly interesting.

"Cool!" She squeals.

"Too bad there are no soccer girls for you to hurt anymore. You girls could seriously bond over this." Freddie says with a chuckle, and that makes everybody else laugh.

It wasn't such a bad night after all, and when we leave with another dinner date set; Sunday, barbeque for the sake of my stomach, gossip for the girls, beer for Toby and baseball for the boys. Everybody's happy.

* * *

><p>I look at myself on the mirror, taking a minute to analyze the person I've become. I used to be very skinny, like really skinny and short. Sure, I didn't do much growing up, not in the height department, but my body developed over the years. It's weird that I'm not super fat, since I eat more than three hungry soldiers who just got out of prison, and still somehow I manage to stay thin. Not like Carly though, I'm curvier, but still, thin.<p>

I lift my pajama shirt a bit, and take a look at my flat stomach. I just ate my ass off at Carly's, and still, my stomach remains as flat as before. Someday it will be bigger, and rounded. Someday there will be a person living inside of me. They will be part me and part Freddie… a perfect combination of the both of us. But for that to happen, I need to overlook my fears and give myself to him. I'm sure he wouldn't object anymore, not after the kiss earlier today.

Taking a deep breath, I begin to get my shit together. Tonight is the night and I don't want to be freaked out. He doesn't deserve a woman who's trying not to cry while he takes her, he deserves a woman who's willing to do this because she wants him. And I do want him, I do, I'm just… nervous? Freaked out? Out of my mind? Scared? I'm nearly panting when my hand finally pushes the door open, I catch my breath. Should I be wearing something more… appropriate? It doesn't matter because the clothes will be discarded one way or another.

Freddie is lying on his side of the bed, eyes closed, and I wonder if he's asleep. I climb into bed and snuggle into the comforter, close to him. I see him smile, but he doesn't open his eyes. His arm comes over my waist, bringing me closer once again, and I tuck my head under his chin.

"I like being like this with you." He whispers. "It's so comfortable… more than any kind of physical demonstration of affection."

"Me too…" I say, slowly. "I love this."

Maybe the whole sex thing can wait a little bit more. I feel much more comfortable with him like this right now, just being close and being safely held by his strong arms. The rest can wait a little, just a little bit more, and I'll be ready for him.

"I like you, Freddie." I admit.

"I like you too, Sam." He doesn't wait to reply.

Laying my head on his chest, I listen to the steady beat of his heart, and that's when I decide. Yep, I'll be ready for him, soon.

* * *

><p><em>AN: So, sorry for the delay, but I found a time to update today. My editor sent me the doc today, and because Carnaval is not going as well as I'd hoped, I'm just sneaking into the room to update. Anyway, a few chapters ago, someone asked me if Toby was based on Max from 2 Broke Girls, and I was going to answer, but I forgot. And the answer is yes, she is. I love that show, so I decided to base a character on Max, who reminds me so much of Sam. Anyway, I don't know if I'm going to be able to update again this week, but I'm already finishing chapter 15, I just need a little inspiration._

_**Edited by pigwiz (thanks a lot!)**  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>Adele – Best For Last <em>**(Congrats Adele, for all the Grammys! I love you, you're perfect!)**


	15. Can't Help Falling In Love

**Genre:** _Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings: **_Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called__** Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

* * *

><p>What the hell is wrong with me?<p>

Sure, there are many things wrong with me, but still, what the hell is wrong with me? Why do I have to ruin everything and turn a good situation into something awkward as fuck? Is it possible that I have such little self control? I mean, sure I'm not the craziest kid in the nuthouse, but I always thought that I did pretty good taking control of my own actions. Apparently not. Not when it comes to Sam.

I hate to think that I freaked her out or made her feel uncomfortable. That would be the worst for me. I want her to see me as a friend or at least someone she can trust. Since day one, my goal was not pushing her boundaries, being patient and understanding. I swore to myself I was going to be in control of my actions around her until the day she wanted me. But I had to go and screw everything up.

If one little kiss can make me lose my self-control like that, I don't even want to know what a piece of bare skin could do. I'm still so ashamed she felt my… _situation_ while we were kissing last week. I'm keeping myself in extra-extra-check. To guarantee my body won't take control again, I keep giving her small kisses, quick little pecks and when it's night, I roll to the side and pretend to be long asleep. I can tell it's bothering her, but this is the better way for me to keep my hormones in check.

I'm a man, you know and as a man, I have needs. Try to share a bed with the most gorgeous person you could ever meet, without being able to do anything about it. It's hard, really, really hard. Long showers and images of my 3rd grade teacher, Miss Briggs, help me keep the_ accident_ from the other night happening again. I feel like God is playing a prank on me by putting the girl of my dreams right by my side just so I can't touch her. I can, I could, but I won't do it.

To me now, it's more than just a physical need. There's something meaningful and special about it and I want it to mean the same thing to her. These past few weeks, I grew attached to her in a way I never been to anyone else. Suddenly, I started to care for her and then, I started to long for her. Now, I seem to want her more and more and more every day. It's an exhausting, vicious cycle, but I wouldn't change it if I could.

I want to give her something, just anything, so I bought a golden necklace I saw earlier that day. But I forgot that she's not the girl for jewelry and by giving her that, I insinuated I wanted or expected her to be, which I don't. Not at all. So today, I came home early from work, claiming to be sick and took a quick shower before coming downstairs, towards the kitchen. I tie the apron around my hips and grab a pan. Sam's always cooking dinner and lunch, so I thought that maybe I could work on something just for her.

On my way home, I buy a bucket of fried chicken. I know she'll like that and I still have some of her cupcakes in the fridge for dessert. There's not much I can make before she gets home, so I do the only thing I know how to make. Mac and cheese. Hopefully she won't be so disgusted. Dang it! Why didn't I buy a cookbook or something? Whatever, now there's no time to whine. Sam will be home in any minute.

Half an hour later, I hear the front door opening, so I hurry to finish cleaning the kitchen, light up some candles and fix my hair and shirt. I don't know what to do with my hands, so I just put them on my pockets and keep flexing my hiding thumbs. Sam passes the kitchen, quickly heading upstairs – I count backwards… 5, 4, 3, 2… She comes back, sniffing around.

"Did you cook?"

"Yes, ma'am, I did."

"Really? Why?"

She analyzes me with suspicion. I forgot how much of a worried, paranoid person she is.

"Because you always cook dinner, so I thought I could do it for once and you weren't home, so I just decided to give it a go. Besides, I kind of promised myself I was going to make you taste my infamous mac and cheese."

I try not to sound so annoyed by her suspicions.

"Huh…"

Sam looks around, but doesn't say anything. She sniffs again. I guess she's trying to decide whether she likes the smell or not and hopefully she will. I'm nervous to know what she'll think of my cooking skills. Especially because she can cook pretty much anything eatable.

"Alright… I guess it's okay then. At least I won't have to cook tonight."

"Yep. No cooking for you. Just cleaning." I say with a smirk.

"Oh, come on!" Sam whines, pouting her bottom lip.

I have to keep myself on check by pressing my short fingernails against my palm. _Don't kiss her man. Self control! Self control!_

"The house rules. And you agreed."

I merely shrug, pretending I'm not affected by her luscious pouty lips.

"Whatever, Benson. I'll do the cleaning."

"Good that we have an agreement."

I smile and she smiles back, almost making me forget for one second that I'm supposed to stay away and keep it cool. I'm still trying to remind myself that when she reaches out for my hands, bringing me closer to her. Before I can say anything, anything at all, she crushes her lips against mine. My hands go to her waist, it's an automatic reaction and I bring her close to me. Her hands slide up and down my arms, so they can climb all the way up to my hair. I try to keep the kiss simple, but Sam is impatiently running her tongue over my bottom lip, over and over again, just trying to get me to open my mouth for her.

And I know that if I do, I won't be able to control what's next. The feeling of her wet tongue being pressed against mine makes me week in the knees and most of the time, it clouds my mind until I can't think properly. She bites down on my bottom lip, trying everything to get me to let her in, but I can't. With my hands on her waist, I push her back and pull away, breaking the kiss. She gives me a confused/murderous look, but I just kiss the tip of her nose in response.

"The food is getting cold."

"Uh… okay."

She doesn't sound convinced at all, but doesn't object. I know she knows that I don't care about the food getting cold, but she doesn't say anything for whatever reason. Maybe she's hungry. I pull away completely, letting go of her waist and pulling out the chair for her.

"Sit down madam and I shall serve you."

The tension seems to vanish from her shoulders while she laughs at my fake English accent.

"Okay servant, let's see what this mac and cheese looks like. Or should I say, tastes like?"

She takes a seat on the chair I pulled out for her and grabs my hand in hers, pulling me down for another kiss. This one is quicker; we only have our lips pressed against each other's for a moment.

"Now, go get me my food servant boy."

I grab the pan of mac and cheese and show her just for kicks. Sam smells the food and tries to dip a finger into the pan, but I withdraw quickly and she sticks her tongue out at me. With a spoon, I serve her and watch her eyes lock on her plate. I've grown used to with the fact that Sam's meals are very important to her. Part of me understands. I've been hungry before, I know what it feels like. It's good to have three meals everyday like clockwork. It's good to no starve or have to content yourself with just anything and other part of me just thinks it's very cute. Yeah, I'm that weird.

As soon as I finish serving her, she picks up her fork, ready for action.

"Calm down, Princess. Wait for me and for the wine."

I laugh when she drops the fork against her will.

The wine I bought was expensive and old. The rich scent of grapes and alcohol invade my nostrils when I open the bottle to pour some for me and Sam. She picks up her glass, sniffing the liquid like I did on our first date and I laugh. She smirks at me and with her thumb and forefinger, she draws an invisible mustache over her upper lip.

"Oh my dear Fredward, you must know I can be exquisitely classy."

"I'm very aware of that fact, my dear lady." I laugh and join her at the table.

"You look lovely, ma'am. I like your apron." She giggles.

"Oh…"

I realize I forgot to take off the apron, so I get up, untie it and toss it in the darkest corner of the kitchen. Smiling awkwardly, I turn back to Sam, who's watching me with a small grin. She does that sometimes, watches me I mean from the corner of her eye or just in moments like this. It pleases me deeply that I'm not the only one staring at her like a creeper.

"Can we dig in now?" She asks, impatience flooding her eyes.

"Sure, ma'am. You can very much _dig in_."

Sam smiles and picks up her fork, blowing me a kiss. I laugh and watch her sniff the food before putting some into her mouth. I don't move, just wait to see her reaction. She chews slowly with her eyes closed and after a few agonizing seconds, she moans quietly. I should be happy that she seems to like my food, but instead, my body threats to come undone at the sound of her soft moan. I squirm in my chair and clench my fists. I have to fight my own desires.

"Freddie… this is… so good! Oh my God!"

Sam picks up her fork full of food and proceeds to eat faster this time.

"Careful, Sam. You don't want to choke."

"Mmmmph, hummmph…" She mumbles, mouthful of food.

"Alright, alright."

I take sip of my wine and start to eat.

"You're so screwed." She mumbles.

"Why?"

"You're going to cook for me very often now."

"I don't mind that." I merely shrug. "Oh, and that reminds me…!"

I get up and grab the bucket of fried chicken, putting it on a plate and bringing it to the table.

"Fried chicken too?" She squeaks. "You're so gonna get a make out session after this."

"Oh…" I swallow hard, only thinking about it makes my hands sweat. "No need, Sam… we can just… snuggle."

Sam raises one eyebrow suspiciously, questioning my rejection. I see a glint of disappointment in her eyes and that makes me feel bad. I don't want her to feel rejected. I don't want her to think I don't want her... because I do, more than anything.

"Or we can make out… if you really want it."

"No… we can snuggle, there's no big deal."

I slap myself mentally as she turns her eyes back to her food. I have to learn how to control my hormones, so I can make out like a normal teenage guy, so Sam won't feel as if I don't want her. Which I do… very much.

* * *

><p>I watch her inconspicuously from the corner of my eyes. She is sitting by my side on the couch, playing with one of her curls. After dinner was over, I helped her with the dishes and came into the living room while she showered. Sam returned and sat by my side on the couch without a word, wearing a pair of denim jeans that always lived in the corner of my darkest fantasy. The silence was making me feel terrible and the way she wouldn't meet my eye made me feel even worse. Finally, I decide to do something about it. I get up and put a record on the phonograph, making music play. I choose an old record by Nat King Cole and ironically, <em>When I Fall In Love<em> was the first song to play.

"Come here." I say, grabbing her hands.

"What?" She chuckles.

"Let's dance."

"I don't know how to dance."

"It doesn't matter, I'll teach you."

_When I fall in love, it will be forever or I'll never fall in love._

I wrap one arm around her waist, consequently bringing her closer to me and grab her other hand so we can dance. She looks up to me and I have to fight the urge to kiss the life out of her. I brush my nose against hers and she smiles at this.

_In a restless world like this is, love has ended before it's began._

Sam lays her head on my shoulder and I sigh, feeling so comfortable with her body pressed against mine. This proximity, this closeness between us stirs something inside of me, nothing like desire or lust, something sweeter and warmer and frightening.

_And too many moonlights kisses seem to cool in the warmth of the sun._

Suddenly I'm scared – of what, I'm not sure – I'm just terrified, but I don't dare move away and ruin this moment. I just drown in whatever it is that I'm feeling and take it like a man. Because even if I wanted to move, to runaway, my body wouldn't respond. It seems to be stuck in place. It seems to know – as if it had a mind of its own – that this is where it belongs.

_When I give my heart, it will be completely or I'll never give my heart._

I put Sam's other arm around my neck and let my hand go for her hair, my fingers getting lost into her soft curls. I rub my thumb behind her ear and she lifts her head up to look at me, but then I do it again and her eyes close. I lean forward and brush my lips against hers briefly, finally giving up, I want to kiss her – I need to kiss her. I brush my nose against her cheek and she sighs contently.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" She asks, out of nowhere.

"Of course I do, Sam."

"Why did you reject the idea of making out with me, then?"

She has her head resting on my chest, so I'm unable to see her face. I want to tell her so many things and explain to her why I'm keeping myself in check, but I don't know how she'll react. Will she be mortified? Scared? Flattered?

"I didn't… reject it; I just said we didn't have to do it."

"It felt like you didn't want to do it."

"I do… believe me."

"Then why did you say no?"

I put my hand under her chin, so I can lift her head up to look at me. She tries to avoid my gaze – her eyes are filled with embarrassment. I particularly like when she lets herself be vulnerable, it gives me this protective feeling over her and I want to keep her safe from all the harm and all the hurt in the world. In a low voice, I whisper,

"I want it Sam. I want it a lot. I want it all the time."

"Then why…?"

"It's hard for me to keep my hormones in check. I'm so attracted to you, but I don't want to go there until we're both one hundred percent sure – until you're sure. But that doesn't mean that my body… won't react to you. You know what I'm talking about?"

"Yeah…" She blushes and giggles a little bit. "That's why you're so distant? You're embarrassed?"

"Well, a little bit. And also, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. You just have to know that is an automatic response of my body and if I had a choice…"

"Do you want me?" She interrupts me.

I consider my answers here. If I tell her no, it would be a lie and I would hurt her. If I tell her yes, she'll know the truth and things will probably be awkward. Well, I prefer them to be awkward instead of hurting her.

"Yes, I do. Very much, but I what I want the most is for you to feel comfortable around me."

"I am… and I'm kind of flattered… that you feel this way."

"Oh… I didn't… expect that."

"You expected me to be freaked out?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Well, I'm not."

Without another word, she crushes her lips against mine, wrapping her arms around my neck tightly, almost afraid I was going to pull away. If I could, I would've told her that I had no intention what so ever to do that, but I just kissed her back instead. Sam ran her tongue over my bottom lip after giving it a gentle nip. I opened my mouth to let her in, gladly savoring the taste and the feel of her. Sam is so perfect and our bodies fit together so amazingly, it scares me.

Her hands are in my hair, tugging softly and my hands travel down her sides. She pushes me until the back of my legs hit the couch, then she forces me to sit and straddles my legs. Sam attacks my mouth again, not giving me time to question her actions; she just grabs my face in her hands and kisses me with renewed passion. I put my hands back on her waist and forcefully push her away.

"Sam…"

Her lips make a quick work for my neck and I groan.

"Sam… what are you doing?"

"Mmmmph." She mumbles against my neck.

"Sam… what are you doing?" I say, with a little more conviction.

She lifts her head from the crook of my shoulder and runs her hand through her hair.

"I'm trying to make out with you, but you're not helping."

"Yeah… uh… about that…"

"Do you want it or not, Freddie? I want it. I'm not asking you to have sex with me on this very couch. I just want to make out with you. I've been wanting to spend some alone time with you since that stupid dinner."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. I really want to kiss you… I… I uh… like kissing you I guess."

"You guess?" I raise my eyebrow.

"No… I'm sure." She smiles, giving me a quick kiss. "I like kissing you, but I don't like having to ask permission, so…"

"Alright, alright. You don't need to anyway." I shrug.

"Good answer." She smirks and rewards me with a kiss.

My hands slide down from her hips to her thighs and I wait for her to protest or remove them, but she doesn't, so I just start to squeeze and rub her smooth legs. Sam's hands go back to my hair, running her nails through my scalp. I groan into her mouth and she rocks her hips against my lap in response. I move my hand to rest on her hips again, but it doesn't stay there for long. Soon, I sneak it into her shirt, appreciating the feeling of her skin in my hands. It's just like my dream when I'm able to feel parts of her I usually never see.

I break the kiss to kiss down her jaw line and neck. She moans and I think I'm about to come undone. I grip her waist harder and rock her hips against mine, feeling this familiar pressure inside my jeans only increase. I suck and bit over her collarbone and she moans even louder.

"Ah, Freddie!"

She arches her back, pressing her chest against mine and I go totally hard. She can definitely feel me now, but instead of pulling away like she did last time, she only grinds down against me harder. The pressure and the friction make it hard for me to think. My hands and lips and maybe my hips do all the thinking for me. I thrust upwards to meet her grinding hips and place both my hands on her ass, helping her move rhythmically.

We kiss again, this time desperately. I press her down against me harder and she bites my lower lip in response. She breaks the kiss, her hands messing up my hair, but I could care less. Her mouth attaches itself to my neck and I groan in satisfaction. Whatever she does with her mouth, whenever, it's too good to be true. I run my hands higher inside her shirt, reaching for the clasp of her bra, but I don't have the guts to do anything about that. She moves from my neck to my jaw line, then bites my earlobe gently.

"Sam… this… it's… uh… so good."

She moans against my neck again, then kisses me hard on the lips. My hands move from her back to her hips, I start to squeeze her, bringing her shirt up a little bit. Sam pulls away from me and looks me in the eye. I think I've done something wrong, but before I can apologize, she speaks.

"Do you want me to take it off?"

"What?"

"The shirt. You were tugging on it… I just thought… that maybe you wanted to… you wanted to see what's underneath." She says, sheepishly.

"No!" I yell out desperately, waving my hands in front of her face. "No, no… no, no, no, no."

Sam groans and gets off my lap, she seems pissed.

"Jeez, Freddie! If you don't want to see me, it's fine, whatever. But you don't have to be a bitch about it!"

"No, Sam… it's not that I don't want to see you! Come on, you know I do. I just meant you don't have to do that. That was all I meant." I say, taking a hold of her hands and bringing her to me.

"Don't be upset. Please." I force her to sit back on my lap, with her legs over mine. "I really want this, you and everything, but I just want you if you want me."

"I… uh… I do… I really do." She says gingerly, toying with her hair.

"Really?" I ask, and I can't help but smile.

"Yeah, I'm just… afraid."

"You don't have to be afraid of me, Sam. I would never hurt you." I cradle her face gently in my hands as she looks up to me, but doesn't smile.

"I know you won't. It's not you… I don't know what I'm afraid of."

"It's alright. I think that you're just not ready. We can wait a little bit until you're more comfortable with that and then we can try… to… do something. It doesn't have to be right now."

"You're not upset… because I'm a chicken?"

"You're not a chicken, Sam. You're not really. I think you are really brave, but you're also human, alright? This is normal."

"Okay." She nods and buries her face on the crook of my neck.

"Alright." I kiss the side of her head softly.

We stay this way for a long time, how long, I'm not sure, but I know it's long. I don't want to move away, I just want to hold her here, next to me forever. She smells good and I keep my face on the top of her head, sniffing her hair once in a while. I feel the steady rhythm of her heart against me and I can feel her taking long, relaxed breaths. She is alive, so alive it aches. I want to be here with her forever, morph into her body and become one. I want to be engulfed by her, so we can be one.

Just to know that she wants me back, is just as good as having her would be. Now that I know I'm wanted by the person I seem to want more and more every day, I feel this heavy weight disappearing from my chest, like I can finally relax. I only have to wait until when she's ready. I won't have to punish myself for doing something she doesn't want. And for the sake of my ego, I want her to enjoy every minute of it. I know I will.

I keep trying to figure out this feeling growing inside my chest. It aches for her and whenever I have her with me, I just want more. I knew I cared about her deeply, but now this feeling grows stronger inside my chest. I think… I might be falling in love with her.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Hey there guys! Sorry for the delay, but here you go, chapter 15! I hope you guys enjoy this and prepare yourselves, because this fic is about to live up to its rating – in a good way I promise. So, some people asked if Freddie was a virgin... well, I made it clear in previous chapters that he wasn't. You see, he might be a teenage boy – in matters of age – but he's pretty much a man in experience. Sorry to disappoint there._

_And I kind of want to ask for a favor. Those of you who are fans of The Hunger Games, please vote on virginmedia . com / movies / awards /_ _2012 – most – wanted . php for The Hunger Games and if you may vote virginmedia . com / movies / awards /_ _2012 – next – big – thing . php for Josh Hutcherson! I want the Hunger Games to win all of the awards! (Two in this case!) Please be so kind and vote!_

_So, I want to send a message to clarksonfan. I can't pm you! Please don't stop editing! I love it when you do it!_

_Well, that's it! Until next time!_

_**Edited by lizabenson (You rock so much!)**_

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><p><em>Elvis Presley – Can't Help Falling In Love.<em>


	16. Glad You Came

**Genre:** _Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings: **_Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called__** Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

* * *

><p>-Freddie-<p>

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><p>I love the days when we can lay around and just be lazy. Usually I like to keep myself occupied, and leaving my mind open wasn't such a good idea. Not until Sam came along. The only good thing in this marriage law imposed by Visualize, is the Free Day. Every Wednesday, the couple is allowed to stay home and dedicate the day to their spouse. We have the weekends, but they think it's not enough to keep a healthy and present relationship. And I don't complain. Part of me believes they only do that so the economy won't grow too much too fast, so they can keep track and control of everything. But right now, sitting on my lumpy couch with Sam, I really could care less about the economy or corruption.<p>

Sam's in my arms, legs thrown over mine, with her head on my shoulder. We overslept, ate a late breakfast, and had lunch around three o'clock. After that, we made out a little, talked about our week and just sat on the couch doing nothing. I can easily say it's one of the best days of my week. I like the calm, sweet moments I have with her. I'm starting to fall asleep, when there's a desperate knock on my door. I jump, startling Sam, whose grip hardens on my arm.

"Shhh…it's okay." I tell her, trying to remove her from myself, but she tightens her grip on me.

"No…don't!"

The knock continues, more persistent, and I grab Sam and gently push her off me. She grabs my arm when I'm about to leave, trying to make me stay.

"It's alright Sam, I'll be right back!" I hiss at her, trying to pry her off my arm.

"Freddie!" She hisses, trying to grip my arm and pull me back, but I'm stronger and push her off again.

"Just stay put."

I move quickly towards the door, glancing backwards more often than not to see if Sam did what I said, and for once in her life, she does. She remains where I left her, and her eyes have a look of uneasiness, but she doesn't move, just like I asked her to. The knock on the door continues and I reach for my hips, trying to grab my gun, but then I remember I no longer have one. I look through the peephole and my body immediately relaxes. It's just Carly out there. I open the door, and she sighs.

"Freddie, hi. Is Sam home?"

"Uh…yeah."

She looks disturbed, but before I can ask what the problem is, Carly pushes past me and goes off looking for Sam. All I can do is follow her into the living room. Sam is already on her feet before Carly even walks into her eyesight.

"What's the matter?" She questions.

"Can we talk?"

"Sure…" Sam looks at me, looking for guidance, but I just shrug. I don't know what to do.

"Do you want me to leave?" I ask, earning a glare from Sam.

"No…it's okay, you don't have to." Carly mutters, grabbing Sam's hands, as if she wanted support. "Can you get me some water, Freddie?"

"Okay, I'll be right back."

Sam gives me this look that seems to say '_don't you dare leave me alone with her,' _but I go to the kitchen anyway. I grab a glass and fill it with water, wondering what has got Carly so startled. Panic starts to flow through me when I think of Brad. Did something happen to him? Is he okay? Is he hurt? Why the hell isn't he here? I go back into the living room to find Sam and Carly on the couch. Sam glares at me, and I send an apologetic glance her way, but she ignores me. I hand Carly the glass of water and sit beside Sam, who elbows me in the ribs. I groan silently as Carly empties the glass of water.

"So, Carly…" Sam starts carefully. "What happened?"

"Yeah, is everything okay? Is Brad okay? Where is Brad?" I blurt out, no longer able to hide my concern for my best friend.

Sam elbows me again, and I grunt in response.

"What happened? Did he do something to you?" Sam asks, and I don't appreciate her accusatory tone, but I don't say anything.

"No…he's at a meeting. He's not supposed to come home until late tonight…"

"Then what happened? Did someone hurt you?" I ask her.

"No….I...uh…I don't know a lot of people and I didn't have anyone to tell this…you live so close, so I thought…"

"It's alright." Sam says, gently rubbing her arms and taking the empty glass out of her hands and forcing me to take it.

"Now tell us what's going on." I say.

"I'm…I uh…I'm pregnant."

I hear the sound of the glass breaking on the floor, but right now, I don't care.

* * *

><p>I don't realize there's glass on the floor until both Sam and Carly look in my direction. The news of Brad being a father startles me. I was definitely not expecting this. Sure, he seemed cool with the idea of having kids, but to me, it always sounded more like a part of the obligation. Or maybe it's just me. Maybe in my mind, every time someone talks about children I assume they are just doing what they have to.<p>

"Uh…Sorry." I say.

"Never mind." Sam glares at me, but her eyes soften when she looks back at Carly. "You're sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure." She shakes her head vigorously.

"That's…good, isn't it? I mean, you told me you wanted this. That you wanted kids."

"I know I said that I wanted kids, but…now that it's happened…I don't know…I'm scared."

"Scared of what?" Sam questions. "You and your spouse will have a child, isn't that what we're supposed to do?"

"Yeah…but…I don't know…I'm pregnant." She says. "I'm pregnant." Carly repeats, more to herself than us, like she needed convincing. "I'm going to be a mother. A mother. Sam…I'm going to have a baby!" She squeaks and jumps.

"Yeah, you are." Sam manages a small smile, and although I try, I can't mimic her gesture.

"I have to tell Brad…I have to prepare myself for him to come home. I gotta tell him!" She gets up, still grinning, and Sam and I stand up too.

"Thank you, Sam. Freddie."

She hugs Sam tightly, and I have to repress a laugh, because the expression on Sam's face is hilarious. Carly pulls away and Sam looks more relieved than I've ever seen her.

"You're welcome, Carly. And good luck."

"Thanks."

She hugs me briefly and leaves when I open the door for her. It's a little awkward after she leaves; I turn around to find Sam collecting the pieces of the broken glass. I hurry over and bend to help her.

"I'm sorry for leaving you alone with her…for a minute."

"Hey, I'm not mad. It doesn't matter really." She shrugs.

"Come on, don't touch that," I say, taking the glass out of her hands, "let me do it."

"I can help."

"I broke it, I'll clean it."

"No Freddie, come on. I can help."

"Sam, are we going to wrestle for the broken glass too?" I ask with a smirk.

"I guess not." She smiles. "So if you want peace, let me help."

"Okay okay. Fine, let's clean this up."

* * *

><p>We collect the pieces of broken glass, grab a brush and clean the floor. After our work is done, we eat dinner and go upstairs because it's late and we really need to get some sleep. I let Sam shower first, and when she comes out all wrapped up in a bathrobe, I practically run inside the bathroom. I hear her chuckling before I close the door, and I can't help but smile. It's nice to know she's not freaked out by my needs and desires.<p>

I'm out of the shower, ready for bed, and Sam's still brushing her hair. She sees me and smiles, putting down the brush. Standing up, I walk over to her and give her a quick kiss on the neck. I can feel her body shivering, and as I try to decide if this is a good thing or not, she grabs me by the hand and leads me to our bed. _Our bed. _I never thought I would get to say that, but now we finally share a room together, a bed. I feel this rush of blood coming up right to my head as I think about all of the things we could be doing in this very bed.

"What do you think about Carly having a baby?" She asks me while laying her head on my chest.

"Well…it was bound to happen sometime, wasn't it?" I say, trying to run from the subject, because I honestly don't know what my feelings are about this.

"Yeah, it was. She was supposed to be pregnant within six months, so I guess she did it good."

"Uh-huh."

I fake a yawn, hoping she'll get the hint and stop talking. No such luck.

"Do you think Brad will be happy?" She whispers.

"I don't know, Sam. I think so."

I try again, turning off the lights, because I don't want to ask her to stop talking. I don't want to drag this conversation along because I don't want to have to answer a certain question every woman asks.

"Do you want to have kids?"

There it is…just the question I was trying to avoid. I consider my options here. I can lie and say yes, and because it's dark she won't be able to tell if I'm telling the truth or not. Or I could tell the truth and break her heart. Maybe I should tell her the halfway answer that's between the hard truth and the cold lie.

"I've never really put in much thought about it."

And it's true. I can't say I've spent long hours of my days trying to figure out whether or not I want to have kids. War was my only concern, and even thought I thought that I could never put a kid into this world, I never asked myself if I wanted them, I just assumed I didn't and left it at that.

"I always thought I was going to die in the war, so I never pictured any future. After I made it out alive, I had to deal with too many problems to even think about it. And now I'm focused on you, making you happy, so I don't think too much about it."

"Me neither." She says, and I feel extremely relieved. "But it's something we can't run away from, is it?"

"Yeah, it isn't. But let's talk about this in the morning, okay?"

"Okay."

She snuggles closer to me, and I kiss the side of her head, wishing her a goodnight. I try to fall asleep fast, like Sam did, but my mind won't stop thinking. I can't put a kid into this world so Visualize can control his life and make his decisions. I can't put someone trough this kind of suffering, only assuming things will be good, just because I got lucky. There are more bad people in this world than good people, and I won't be able to bear if Visualize got it's way with my kids. I wouldn't be able to do anything to stop it, I wouldn't be able to protect it. I would be useless.

* * *

><p>-Sam-<p>

* * *

><p>When Carly asked me to go with her to the doctor, my first instinct was to say no, but then I remembered Freddie insisted I make some friends. It couldn't be so awful having someone to talk to besides Freddie. And besides, Carly is a sweet girl, and I happen to like her a little bit, or at least, I don't hate her guts. When I told Freddie I was going, I could tell he was happy for me, but he had something in his eyes I couldn't quite figure out.<p>

I appreciate that he was honest about whether or not he wanted to have kids. I was concerned with his answer, but it was satisfactory, and I've always thought the same thing. I wasn't very secure about whether or not I was going to live through the war as well, and being forced to marry a stranger, a family was the last thing on my mind. Now things have changed, and sometimes I catch myself imagining a child with Freddie's eyes.

I don't know how I feel about him. I know I care about him – I just don't know if it's more than that. But of course, yes, it's more than that, so much more than just caring. Sometimes I catch myself drowning in his eyes, wishing I could stay that way forever. I look at him and I see more than I did before. I see my present and my future, but not because I have to, but because I want to.

Carly's name is called, and I squeeze her hand in support. Even though I agreed to coming with her to the doctor, I did not volunteer to go in with her. There's only so much a person can take.

I wait outside in the reception, looking around at the mother's with her children and the women with rounded stomachs. They're mothers and I can't help but feel a pang of jealousy when I look at my flat stomach.

The realization hits me when I place my hand over my stomach. I want to have babies – Freddie's babies. I want to have his children, hold them in my arms, put them to sleep, kiss them and watch Freddie playing with them. I want to have a family with him. A boy with his looks or a girl with brown hair and blue eyes. Healthy little kids, running around my backyard…

My mind loses itself in a daydream, imagining a little boy waving at me. His tousled brown hair stuck to his forehead and his little hands dirty from playing in the garden. The little girl keeps her eyes on Freddie, who builds a treehouse for them. Freddie instructs her carefully on how to help him with the painting. He looks at her sweetly and pats her on the top of her head, and my heart swells with emotion. He would be the perfect father.

I don't know how long it goes on, me imagining this little non-existent family of mine, but it must have been long because next thing I know, Carly is waving her hand in front of my face.

"Hey. Are you alive in there?" She giggles.

"Oh, hi. How was it?" I shake my head and get up.

"It was great. She says the baby is in perfect condition and everything is just fine." She says with her hand over her stomach, and I feel that jealousy again.

"That's great Carly." I rub her shoulder and she smiles at me.

"Thank for coming with me. Brad wanted to be here, but he had to work."

"It's no problem, Carly. Can we go now?"

"Oh, yeah, let's go."

We turn around to leave, when someone bumps into my legs. I look down to find a head full of red hair staring up at me. The little girl has freckles all over cheeks and nose, her eyes are bright green and she looks like she's about three or four.

"Hey, are okay?" I bend down to check on her.

"Yeah." She answers, with her sweet squeaky voice. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." I chuckle and pat her little head.

"Oh…Gracie, I told not to run around like that."

Her mother has the same eyes and hair color. She comes and takes the little girl by the hand, checking for bruises.

"I'm sorry. She just never listens." She apologizes to me.

"Oh, it's okay. She's adorable." I wave it off.

"How far are you?" She asks me, picking up her daughter in her arms and holding her against the crook of her hip.

"I'm not…no…I came with my friend." I say, pointing at Carly.

"Oh. Sorry."

"No problem."

"_Jane Oliver." _The attendant calls on the speakerphone.

"That's me. I'm on my second." She says, patting her stomach, and I feel jealous once again.

"Congratulations." I say, forcing a smile.

"Thanks. Nice to meet you…?"

"Sam. I'm Sam, and this is Carly."

"Hi." They shake hands politely.

"Well, it was nice meeting you two. Have a good day."

"Yeah, you too."

Carly and I leave the doctor's office, but before I go, I take a second glance at the little girl. She waves her small hand goodbye, with an almost toothless smile. I grin at her, feeling this pain in my chest that I never felt before. My chest aches with need, need for something more, something new.

* * *

><p>I can hear the water running in the shower, and my nerves get the best of me. Freddie is in the shower, getting ready for bed, while I'm sitting on my vanity, brushing my hair a thousand times. I can't help but imagine him in there, cold water running down his back, his naked body soaked, his hair wet…I shake my head and drop the brush, making a loud <em>thud <em>against the wood.

"_Sam? Are you okay?" _He yells from the bathroom, and the water stops running.

"Yeah, I just dropped my brush!"

"_Alright."_

"Damn it, Sam!" I hiss. "Stop being such a fool!"

I yank the comforter out of the bed and lay down, not bothering to cover myself up. So many thoughts are running through my mind as I toy with my hair and wait for Freddie to come out of the bathroom. He must be drying his body now…I feel a sudden spike in temperature as I imagine how he must look like naked. I picture his muscles flexing while he dries up his body, his biceps and triceps moving in sync…his body is so hard…I wish I could see him, all of him. I wonder if he ever thinks about me like that.

Freddie casually walks out of the bathroom, already dressed in his pajamas and I feel a little disappointed. I don't know why I imagined he would just walk out of the bathroom wearing nothing…stupid Sam!

"So, I didn't get to ask you. How was it with Carly at the doctors?"

"It was okay. She said the baby is alright."

I sit up, hugging my knees against my chest, watching Freddie come closer to me.

"Brad is excited." He mumbles.

"Yeah, she told me he reacted really well." I say.

"Yeah."

He lays on the bed, signaling for me to come to him. I love the way he embraces me at night, keeping my body warm and comfortable. I immediately accept his embrace, snuggling into his arms.

"How was your day?" He asks sweetly, but I'm not in the mood for conversation right now.

"It's better now."

"Good…did you-?"

I don't let him finish. I really don't care what he was going to ask me. I press my lips against his, desperately, trying to stick my tongue into his mouth. He accepts the kiss and lets me take the lead. I feel the urge to get even closer to him – apparently being in his arms is not enough. So I climb on top of him, straddling his hips. Freddie moans in response, and I break the kiss to kiss down his neck.

"Sam…" He groans, dropping his hands to my backside and squeezing my flesh.

"I love the way you make me feel." I whisper into his ear.

He rolls us over and kisses me hard on the lips, pressing me against the mattress. I throw my head back with a moan when he kisses over my collarbone, and I feel him growing hard against me. My body grows hotter, and my breath is uneven as I roll my hips upwards to meet his and he moans again.

"Sam…I…"

"I'm feeling weird." I say.

"Weird…?" He tries to pull back and away from me, but I don't let him. "Am I hurting you? Are you hurt?"

"No…I feel…I feel hot." I say, panting.

"Hot…?"

"Yes, Freddie. Hot."

"I don't…understand…"

I chuckle and grab the back of his head and kiss him again. I try to show him how I'm feeling by moving my body against his, making sure he rubs against me every time. Freddie grips my thigh and hooks it around his hip, and I feel him even closer to me. My body is burning, and I can't breathe right, but it all feels so good and I don't want to stop. I run my nails down his back, inside his shirt, and his resolve breaks. I feel him kissing me with full force, running his hands all over me.

The grinding of our hips makes me dizzy, the inside of my thighs burn, and suddenly a rush of hot liquid leaves my body. The thin material of my underwear is now completely soaked. I throw my head back and feel his hand making its way down to my hip, then my thigh and under my knee…

"Freddie…" I moan, throwing my head back again and arching my back.

The pressure inside my thighs is making me crazy, it's taking over me and I feel the need to make it stop. Freddie keeps kissing me and grinding against me, only increasing the pressure and the sensation that makes my body so desperate. He pulls away from me, making me miss the heat and the friction between us. I glare at him, and I want to snap, but he looks so vulnerable right now. It's sweet.

"Can I…uh…touch your…?"

His cheeks are bright red, and he doesn't have to say what he wants, because as soon as his gaze drops to my chest, I know. I feel myself blushing, but at the same time I'm flattered and pleased he wants to touch me like this.

"Y-Yeah…" I stutter. "You can touch me anywhere."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." I nod, trying to show security and bravery.

He smiles and kisses me sweetly, before deepening the kiss, making the familiar pressure inside of me increase. This kiss is sweeter, but it has just enough passion to make me dizzy. His hands are on my neck, where he rubs tiny circles with his thumbs until they lower to my chest. I break the kiss and bite my lip when his hands reach my breasts. He squeezes me softly, almost tentatively, and I hold back a throaty groan.

"Is this okay?" He asks me, his voice husky and low, just the way I like it.

"Yes…"

Freddie kisses me once again very briefly, his hands massaging my breasts carefully. When his thumb flicks my nipple, I can't help but arch my back with a moan. He attaches his lips to my neck while I grab on to the back of his shirt. Everything he does feels so good and leaves me wanting more. For the first time I wonder if sex is really that bad, because what I'm feeling right now couldn't get any better.

Except I'm wrong, it could – it can. He sneaks his hand into my shirt to touch my bare skin, and that's when it gets better. I feel the palm of his manly hand cover part of my breast, and the heat coming from his flesh makes me burn. I tug on his hair and make him lower his head to kiss me. I moan into his mouth as he runs his thumb against my nipple again, this time its flesh meeting my flesh.

"You're so smooth…" He whispers, making me throw my head back.

His hand leaves my breast to hold onto my hip. My eyes roll to the back of my head when I feel his lower half pressing against mine again. My knees bend as I spread my legs wider to accommodate him better. He is hard and hot against me and I feel the need to stop the pressure inside of me. While he's kissing my neck, I feel the strange desire to have his lips where his hands once were. I wiggle my arms a little bit to reach for the hem of my shirt when he pulls back and stops me.

"What are you doing?"

If I don't tell him what I want, I will never get it, and if I wasn't so desperate for something, anything, I probably wouldn't. And if I regret this tomorrow, at least I'll get what I want tonight.

"I…want your lips…where you hands were."

"On your breasts?"

The sound of disbelief in his voice makes me irritated. I wouldn't joke about it, he must know that.

"Yeah…there."

Freddie gives me the sweetest smile, before slowly lifting my shirt up to my neck. I can feel his eyes locked on my chest, and my cheeks turn bright red. For a moment I worry he won't enjoy the view. My breasts are a little too big for my body, and they always bother me, so I don't know if he's going to like it.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers, his eyes now trained to my face.

"No, I'm not…"

"Yes you are." He insists. "So beautiful…"

I don't disagree because right now I really want to hear this. His eyes are sweet and almost innocent, if it wasn't for the glint of lust in them. He kisses me on the lips, before making his way down to my chest. The first contact alone send shivers through every single part of me, and I feel so alive. His lips are sweet and soft against my skin, but hot at the same time. A fire erupts from the center of my body as his tongue presses against my nipple.

"Freddie…" I pant desperately.

His mouth covers as much of my breast as he can, but my mind is on the pressure between my legs. I'm starting to lose my mind, I'm so desperate to make it stop – I'd do anything just to make it stop.

The hand he left on my hip, makes its way down to my thigh, squeezing me sporadically. Suddenly his hand is on the back of my knee, a place I could never imagine to be this sensitive. I moan loudly and he groans against my chest, making my skin vibrate. I feel his hand rubbing my knee, before slipping inside of my thigh, making its way to where the pressure it's killing me. I sweat with anticipation, hoping he'll finally end this torture he's putting me through.

He's almost there, but he never really gets there. I guess he is waiting for me to freak out and push him away. It's not an irrational fear on his part. I must say that if I wasn't so desperate, I would have pushed him away and locked myself in the bathroom. But right now, the only thing that seems to matter is the fire burning inside of me and the desperation that is making every single bone in my body ache – as if that was possible.

So I cover his hand with mine, guiding him to where I need him the most. I grow some balls and lead his hand to the center of my body, hoping he will get the hint. It's not long until his hand reaches for my most private part. And I swear to God, this jolt of electricity bursts through my veins. I let out a yell that might have woken up the neighbors, and my hand bangs against the headboard.

"Are you okay?"

Freddie tries to pull away, but I hold his wrist where it is, afraid he's going to stop.

"I'm good…don't…stop…that...don't stop, please."

He only nods, dipping his hand inside my pajama bottoms, touching me through my underwear. My hand doesn't let go of his wrist, and the other one tugs on his hair again. I gasp, loving what he's doing.

"You're…so…Jesus, Sam!"

I know that he can feel how wet it is down there, and if I wasn't lost in the sensation, I would probably push him away and hide downstairs. His mouth returns to my breast while his fingers work its way inside my underwear. God help me, but I scream my lungs out once he found the spot – the same spot where the pressure keeps coming from. My back bends in an inhuman way, and he just keeps rubbing me there.

At first it's slow and sweet, until he starts to put pressure on it and rub it faster. I hold his head against my breast and his wrist in between my legs, afraid he is going to let go. I marvel at the power that his hands have over me and how he reduced me to nothing but a moan machine. Soon I'm rolling my hips upwards to meet his fingers, and I'm so close to something…something frightening…something intense.

With his tongue, he flickers and twists my nipple just before he kisses me on the lips. I swear to God, that even before he got to my mouth, I was already feeling his kiss. The longing I had for his lips is over as soon as I feel them, and I know how much I like them – how much I adore them. The kiss is so intimate and passionate, but it has hints of sweetness in the way he moves. I love this feeling…I love his taste and the way he touches me…and I think...I think I might love him.

That's the last rational thought I have before my mind goes blank. His mouth muffles my screams as I reach whatever it was that I was supposed to reach. I feel this hot liquid leaving my body, and for a moment I think I might've just peed my pants, but the sensation is so powerful, it doesn't allow me to think anymore. My back arches and my head goes backwards onto the pillow, my toes curls against the mattress and my eyes roll inside my sockets. It all feels so good.

I'm so glad he's above me, that his body is pressing me against the mattress, or else I might have just flown away. My body comes down and I let go of him, my hands dropping to my sides. Freddie kisses me once more and I don't have the strength or energy to respond, but he doesn't seem to care. I feel him putting my shirt down and laying beside me, bringing me to rest in his arms. He kisses the top of my head as I gather my strength to look at him.

"I liked that." I say breathless, fighting a blush.

"I'm glad you did." He smiles, kissing me softly.

"I'm going to want this again. I hope you're aware of that."

"I'm your loyal servant, my queen," he says with a toothy smile, "and you shall have me for whatever you desire. Just say the word."

"Oh, I will."

With one last chuckle, he turns off the lights and I snuggle closer, already feeling relaxed and sleepy. I think about him and how much my chest always aches for him, and I think about what we just did and how he made me feel. Then my mind drifts off, imagining the little boy with Freddie's face, and the little girl with brown curls and big blue eyes. I want them so bad. And I want them with him. With the man I'm head over heels in love with.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Alright, let's talk for a little bit, shall we? I really don't appreciate people rushing me to update. I know I used to update everyday and all, but that was on vacation, I didn't have college to deal with. I don't know if a lot of you know, but I have a baby. He is almost five months, and he needs me to take care of him. It's hard to raise a child and go to college at the same time. Try to include writing in the middle of this mess, and I promise you it only gets more and more complicated._

_As I explained before, it takes me about four HOURS to write a chapter. I need focus and silence to write. The only time I have any silence is when my son is asleep, and he doesn't do that very often. I would appreciate if you guys were a little patience. To write quality chapters, I need time, but if you guys want I can give you a crappy chapter every day. But I promise you, it will not be a good deal._

_If you can be patient, I assure you, that good chapter will come. I have so much planned out for this fic, so much in my mind, but I need time to write it down. I know there's a lot of you who don't rush me and wait patiently for every update. I know how it is, I read fanfic too and I wait everyday for updates. But I also understand authors have lives that's what makes me wait for the next chapter patiently._

_I'm truly sorry for not being able to update every day like I used to. Believe me, I much rather sit down and write every day, and post every day than do half of the things I have to. But this is life, you know, you don't get to have what you want all the time. When you become an adult, you have to do things you sometimes don't want, because it's the right thing to do._

_I would deeply appreciate, whoever is rushing, if you can understand where I'm coming from. I'm trying to write a good fic, I'm trying to do a good work, and that takes time. If you can understand that, you'll be making me very happy._

_About the sex thing. Well, even though this fic is M, it's not about sex, it's ore about the losses and how we can build ourselves up from the ashes. It's about learning to love someone every day. In this story, Sam and Freddie are deeply scarred, they have intimacy issues that cannot be ignored. They're working towards the place where both of them can be confident enough to share something so big and meaningful like that. If you do it for the wrong reasons, it taints something that should be so beautiful (You'll see what I mean, but not now). So I ask for a little patience in this department too. I promise not to end this fic without a proper seddie lemon._

_**Edited by clarksonfan (thank you thank you thank you thank you!)**_

* * *

><p><em>The Wanted – Glad You Came. (I never heard their version, only Glee's. And I love Grant Gustin too much, so I'll just stick to his version. Anyway, you see what I did with the name of the chapter? lol! My mind is dirty) <em>


	17. Everything Is Beautiful

**Genre:** _Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings: **_Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called__** Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

* * *

><p>-Freddie-<p>

* * *

><p>I wore a huge smile on my face that did not seem to fade away, ever. I went to work, carrying the bliss from last night, still thinking about how lucky I was. I was truly a really lucky bastard. I could already feel Sam opening up to me more, or else she would not have let me touch her that way… man, I might not be able to do anything today at work, because I was so damn distracted. My mind could not stop thinking about her; how beautiful she was; how wonderful she felt and tasted like. I wanted to repeat the events from last night, again and again and again.<p>

Happiness had never meant so much to me. It never was so possible, so concrete. Now, I finally believe something good could come out of this messed up world I live in. Last night meant so much, much more than just intimacy and pleasure. It meant trust, and respect… it meant love. I let my heart believe she had feelings for me, not just any feelings, but romantic feelings. But there was this particular voice at the back of my mind, telling me she probably only trusts me. Of course, I ignored it, choosing to believe she actually felt the same way about me, as I did about her. I chose the truth that made my heart swell, not the one that left me with a disappointed sigh.

All of my co-workers looked at me like I was insane, but I did not blame them. It must have been the smile that seemed to linger on my face the whole day. I had never been the cranky boss type of guy, but I had also never been the smile-all-day-long type of person either. It was definitely a shock to them – and to me too – that my mood was so good today. Greg, one of my friends in and out of work, knocked on the door of my office, after hearing the rumors that I might have finally gone mad.

He came in and checked on me, to see if it was really the truth. I just tapped him on the back and told him that life was beautiful. And then he went off to call Brad. Ten minutes later, I had a worried Brad pacing around the room. He kept asking me if I had taken my pills, but all I could hear was the sound of Sam's voice in my ear – moaning softly.

"Brad, relax." I said, but he ignored me.

"No, Freddie, I'm calling your doctor. These pills are obviously not working on you, otherwise you wouldn't be… so goddamn happy."

"What about you stop," I grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to sit down, "and ask me, why the hell am I so happy about? Huh, how does that sound?"

"Uh… okay." He looked at me warily, and crossed his arms against his chest. "What's up with you?"

"She likes me." I merely said.

"Uh… who? Sam?"

"No. The old lady from the Chinese restaurant!" I said sarcastically. "Of course it's Sam, Brad!"

"She told you that?"

"No… well… not really."

"Then how do you know she does."

"Oh, I know." I raised my eyebrow and smirked. "Or else, she wouldn't let me touch her… in a more intimate way."

"So, finally you did… the deed?" He smiled, looking relieved.

"Well… no."

"Then what?" He spat.

"She… uh… let me… make her… you know…" I blushed. "With my hands and…. Stuff."

For some reason I did not feel comfortable sharing details with him at all. In the past, this was not a problem, and we used to compare notes, but now it was different. She was my _wife,_and intimate things between us should just stay between us. And also because I did not want him imagining her… that way. That was something only I could do.

"Oh…" He lowered his head for a moment, then chuckled. "Of course… that. So, how was it?"

"Sorry, but no details."

"Oh come on, Freddie! I'm your best friend! You never kept that stuff from me before!"

"Yeah, but this time it's different."

"Why?"

"Because she matters to me… she's my wife and I…" I stopped talking, realizing what I was about to say.

"You love her."

A huge smile crept up to his face, and I could see relief wash inside him through his eyes. I knew Brad was a little worried about me not fulfilling my duties and getting into trouble. What kind of trouble, he would not say, but still I could tell it was not good.

"You're the one implying that." I fought a blush.

"You are." He insisted. "I can see in your eyes. And I know you way too well, my friend. You are in love with her, I know you are."

"Yeah… but I'm not ready to confess my feelings for you. The first person who'll hear my confession of love will be my wife."

"Fair enough." He chuckled, and then sighed, looking thoughtful. "Look at us… how have we evolved."

"Yeah, we did. From killing machines to loving husbands. How did that happen?"

"Life happens. Everyone has to evolve and no matter how bad our losses are, we still can find peace in our lives. We can still start again."

Brad had always been the optimistic one between the two of us. While I used to think I was going to die in a war, he would always hope for the best – for the day the world would be a good place. And although I knew he thought we were already there, there was still a long path to walk until one day, I would be able to say we live in a good place again. Not even my feelings for Sam could mask this uneasy feeling I have about the world we live in.

"I guess we can." I stated. "So… you're going to be a daddy."

"Yeah, can you believe it? I'm so glad." He said, toying with the pens over my desk. "I'm excited."

"I'm happy for you my friend." I said, honestly, because if he was glad, then so am I.

"Thank you. I'm happy you got to third base with your wife last night. What a progress!" He teased.

"Shut up! What about you? You didn't touch a boob until you were sixteen!"

"Hey, not fair! Not all of us are ready to lose our virginities at fourteen!"

"Yeah, I guess not. Some of us are just more of a man than others." I shrugged.

"More… oh, come here and I'll show you who the man here is!"

He got up, and walked towards me, putting me in a headlock. I just chuckled and wrestled my way out of his grip. I stood on my feet and grab him by the wrist, twisting his arm and holding it against his back.

"Alright, alright!" He panted. "I'm out of shape!"

"You're a pussy!" I laughed and released him.

"Not fair, you know that I'm out of shape." He protested.

"Uh-huh, yeah right!"

"Come on. Let's grab some lunch."

Brad patted me on the back while I collected my jacket.

"Okay."

We got out of my office, and on my way I spotted Greg, working on some blueprints.

"Traitor!" I yelled at him but he merely shrugged.

"Let's go to that Chinese place, the one where your girlfriend works." Brad teased, mentioning the old lady who worked there. "Then you can tell me all about last night."

I glare at him menacingly.

"Or not."

"I rather not."

* * *

><p>-Sam-<p>

* * *

><p>I came home from work, wearing the same smile I had on me since I went to bed last night. Of course, that granted me some teasing, once Toby saw my face, somehow she knew. She said it was because of my cheeks. Her exact words were <em>you finally put some color on those cheeks of yours. <em>I tried not to give her much attention; otherwise I might have punched her square in the face. It was not hard to do it, since my mind kept wondering back to my house, and my bedroom, and most importantly, _my husband._

After last night, there was not a single part of my body that did not scream for him. I needed that feeling again, and again and again. So I took the bus home and practically ran upstairs to take a quick shower. I put on some fancy undergarments and do something I've never done before – I sprayed some perfume on myself. I chose a simple white dress, loose enough to allow me to spread my legs wide, and some blue cardigan to go along with it.

The memory of him invaded my brain when I looked at our bed. That weird pressure came back to me, and even though he was not touching me, or nowhere near me, I already felt my body heating up. This left me with an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something I could only describe as desperation, and even though I hated to feel so dependent on anyone, I could not deny the need I have for him grew stronger every waking day.

While I was waiting for him to get home, I ordered Chinese food, because I knew he liked it, and because I did not want to smell like food tonight. I sit on the couch after putting the food in the kitchen. How he was able to survive this long sleeping on this lumpy couch, I have no idea. I wiggle my hips, trying to find a comfortable position but there was not one. Usually, when I sit here, I would be on Freddie's lap, or his arms, so I barely cared about the couch. Being here alone, I realized it really does suck. Maybe we could get a new one.

I really felt bad for Freddie, and the long nights he had to spend here because of me. But that did not matter anymore, since we were now sharing the same bed. Thinking about that bed made my cheeks burn. It became more than a bed actually; it was almost like a symbolism.

It took him more time than usual to get home, and my chest tightened with concern. Sometimes, I just thought he would leave for work and never come back again. I absolutely hated having to feel this way, especially because I knew he would not just walk away. Every time I see him walking through the door, I felt relieved all over again.

Giving up, I walked around the living room, toying with the hem of my dress, not knowing what else to do. My heart refused to quieten down until I see him again.

"Honey, I'm home!"

That voice reached my ears, and went straight to my heart, making it swell with happiness. I watched him walk into the living room, dropping his suitcase on the floor and loosening the knot of his tie. Before he could say anything else, I took a hold of his blue tie, and bring him to me. I crashed my lips to his, and he responded instantly, making me ooze with happiness. The kiss was desperate, rushed and furious, and I wanted to keep going forever, but at some point I needed to breathe, so I let go of him. Not willingly, this I assure you.

"Somebody's been missing my kissing." He teased, with cocky smirk that only made him sexier.

"Like you don't miss mine." I used a smirk that matched his.

"Point taken." He said, before making his way down to my neck.

"Mmmm." I moaned softly, feelings his lips on me.

Freddie kept his lips attached to my neck, and I melted in his arms, letting the heat from his body engulf me. I ran my hands down his back and over his shoulders, stripping him from his working jacket. I had the crazy need to feel his skin underneath my hands, so I proceeded to unbutton his shirt. He lifted his head up, looking at me with a quizzical expression on his pretty face.

"Is this…" he sniffed my neck, then my hair, "perfume?"

"No." I blushed furiously.

"Huh..." he sniffed me again, then taking a bite of my skin gently in between his teeth, quickly running his tongue over the same place, "yes. It's perfume."

"Uh…" I thought about a good lie to tell him, but it came out empty.

"Oh, Mrs. Benson… you put on perfume for me? I'm flattered."

"Shut up!"

I shoved him slightly, making him stumble back against the coffee table. Before he could fall over it, he quickly grabbed onto my arm, balancing himself up again.

"Oh my god… I'm sorry!" I chuckled.

"Nah, I don't care." He said, before kissing me full on the mouth.

My nails dug into his shoulders, as his tongue slowly toyed with mine. That familiar pressure, inside my underwear, began to increase. I urgently press myself against him, and he responded by grabbing my backside almost roughly. I let out a yell that was muffed by his lips and tried to yank off his tie. Not being familiar with ties or how they work, I ended up almost strangling him.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry…"

I said, trying to yank the tie off, but it got stuck under his nose.

"Ouch!"

"Damn it! Who designed this thing? NASA?"

"Sam, calm down."

He grabbed both of my hands in his. The tie was still stuck under his nose, making him look slightly like this girl from third grade. She had her nose up so high, that her lips could barely touch, letting her huge set of teeth show. She looked like a pig, and it definitely did not work for her, not as it worked for Freddie. Even looking like a pig, he still looked cute. Yeah, call me girly.

"Let me do it." He smiled, loosening the knot of his tie. "I'm far more experienced in this area than you."

"Yeah, whatever." I grumbled.

"I can teach you sometime, how to do this… and undo this."

He finally lost the annoying ass tie, tossing it on the couch. I would like to learn how to get rid of his tie. When I was a kid, I found it so endearing, and intimate, how my aunt would always undo my uncle's tie. And I imagined me doing this with Freddie. It seemed so sexy. The thought of removing any piece of his clothing seemed sexy.

"There you go. Simple as that." He said, kissing my hands.

"Whatever Benson. Now come here."

I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and kissed him thoroughly, running my nails up and down his scalp. He purred against my lips, and grabbed onto my backside again, lifting me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, as he settled both of us on the couch. He pulled away to breathe, and cradled my face in his hands. The way he looked at me right now, it was so sweet, so loving, and for a moment I wondered… if he felt the same way about me.

I did not want to lie to myself in that department. I knew that he liked me – he said so himself. And that he desired me – I could pretty much feel that every time we kiss. But did he _love_ me? He could not. And anyway, why would he? I gave him no reason to, not like how he gave me. And I could not really ask him this, it was not something he could control. I kept telling myself that, but the way he was looking at me right now, filled my heart with hope – hope that he might just feel the same way about me.

"God, you're beautiful." He sighed.

"You really think that… or you're just saying it because you think you should?" I asked him, not meeting his eyes.

"I'm saying that because is the truth. Even if I loathed you, I couldn't lie and say you're not gorgeous, because you are."

"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself." I stated, with a small smile.

"You're too kind, milady."

I loved it when he uses his fake English accent. It made me laugh every time, and I actually believed I was some sort of a lady, when he talked to me like that. And let us all face it, it was very, very sexy and alluring.

"Yeah, I do what I can." I shrugged.

He laughed and kissed the very tip of my nose.

"Oh, Sam… _je t'adore_."(*)

"What was that?" I chuckled.

"French."

"You speak French?"

"Yep. And some other languages."

"Really?" I gawk at him.

"Uh huh. _Jeg elsker deg_ Samantha._Ich liebe dich. Ik hou van i' ngra leat. __ ai ni. Te amo. Eu te amo."_(**)

He looked intensely into my eyes, and even though I had no idea what he just said, I had a feeling is something good.

"What did you just say?"

"That's for me to know and for you to guess." He kissed me again, this time softly.

"Not fair!" I punched his arm playfully.

"Oh well…" He just shrugged, "you'll know when the time is right."

We laughed and shared a small kiss. His hands were in my hair, and mine rested comfortable on his chest – his broad chest… His body, so strong like a rock, and moulded perfectly into mine. My hands traced the curves of his packs, and then I let it drop to his abs, feeling them underneath my fingers. I made a quick work to the second button of his shirt, needing to feel whatever was underneath. He saw me, so it was only fair I get to see him – and besides, I'm not asking for much, he is mine to look at.

Much to my disappointment, he pulled away from the kiss, frowning. I tried not to look so upset, because he had just ended my fun, especially because his face carried an oddly familiar expression. After a few seconds, he laughed and kissed my nose.

"What?" I ask.

"I'm… sort of hungry."

"Oh."

So that was the problem… I wondered if I look like that whenever I was hungry. If that was the case…Gosh, I must look like that all the time then.

"I ordered Chinese." I announced.

"Really?"

"Yeah. You like it so much, and I thought, well… why not?" I shrugged.

"You just didn't want to cook." He teased, poking me.

"Whatever. Are you hungry or what?"

"Very."

He kissed me one more time, before releasing my hands, so I could get up from his lap. I held my hand out to him, as he grabbed it, and followed me towards the kitchen. Before we could get there, there was a knock on the door. Freddie was quick, grabbing me by the wrist and hid me behind him. I guess that was something he must have picked up from the war. I have heard some things never really go away, and he probably would be easily startled for the rest of his life. My heart ached with this thought, and I wished I could do something to make him better. I hated to feel useless.

"Who is it?" He asked, gripping tightly to my wrist, but not enough to hurt.

"It's Carly, Freddie. I need to talk to you."

He sighed, visibly relaxed, and released my hand from his grip.

"_What does she want this time?"_He whispered.

"_We'll find out as soon as you open the door!"_I hissed.

"_I hope she isn't giving birth or something."_

I rolled my eyes at his comment, but relaxed my expressions when he opened the door. Carly was standing outside, wrapped in a knit coat, and she seemed distressed. The first thought on my mind was the baby, and I felt a sudden panic, thinking that something bad could have happened.

"Hey. Come on in." Freddie said.

"Excuse me."

She did not seem hurt, or in pain, so I relaxed to that, but the look on her face was of pure concern.

"What's the matter?" Freddie asked, closing the door behind us.

"It's Brad. I'm concerned." She blurted out.

"What happened? Is he okay? Is he hurt? What's wrong with him?"

The concern plastered on Carly's face, passes on to Freddie, who was now flushed. He cared so much about Brad, and that was really sweet. I wondered if he cared this much about me too.

"I don't know…" She seemed unsure.

"Carly. What the hell happened?"

He urged her, and she sighed, her eyes filled with tears.

"He rushed out the door and I never seen him so upset. He's distressed… he took the car and left, and now I'm so worried." She sniffed.

"What happened? What got him like that?" I asked.

"Something… he saw on that goddamn office of his!"

"You have to be more specific Carly!" Freddie urged her again with a yell.

She flinched and covered her ears with her hands. I shoved him hard on the shoulders, but that did not knock him off his balance or anything.

"Don't you yell at her!" I spat.

"Sorry! I'm sorry!" He ran his hands through his face twice. "Tell me, please. Tell me what happened."

"I think it's better if you see it."

* * *

><p>-Freddie-<p>

* * *

><p>I followed Carly to her house, still holding onto Sam's hand. My heart pumped furiously against my chest and I silently prayed for the safety of my best friend. I knew working for Visualize was not going to be a good idea, especially for Brad, who had always been so damn naïve. But he believed so much in what they do, nothing seemed to convince him otherwise. I knew that the war had affected him in many ways, and I also knew he was desperate to build a better world. That was why working there was not a good idea, he was way too desperate, and he would believe in anything they said, and anything they did.<p>

There were a couple of times when I tried to alert him of the risks, but as always, he would just brush it off. I just hope he was alright and safe, wherever the hell he was. Sam and I followed Carly into her living room, and I spotted a knitting hat abandoned on the couch. Apparently, Sam saw the same thing, and I watched her eyes shine at the sight. I gulped loudly, hoping I just imagined it, but the more I wanted to deny, the more the glint in her eyes seemed maternal.

I tried not to think about it as Carly opened the door to his office. I had never been here before, and I had never really cared, but now I wished I had. Brad's office was a dark room, with a wooden table in the centre, thick red curtains, tons of archived cabinets and… televisions?

"Televisions?" I asked. "I didn't know they were making those anymore."

"Yeah…" Sam agreed. "So Carly, you said he saw something here, and ran out the door?"

"Yes." She grabbed a remote and turned on the TVs.

The images that popped on the screen were from the streets – some vague, some not so. I did not understand what could have had distressed him to this point. I watched the screens intently, and they did not make any sense. What kind of TV show would show only boring neighborhoods? Until I finally realized… that was not a TV show… and those were not regular TVs…

"Those are security cameras." I said out loud.

"What?" Sam turned to me, confusion spreading all over her face.

"Those are security cameras…."

I took a few steps forward and analyzed it better. Each TV had a number and an 'N' written under the official V, for Visualize. N-16 showed the image of ten houses, and only two had their lights on. N-17 showed ten empty backyards. N-18, ten different houses, N-19, ten other backyards… and so on it went. I took that N stands for "neighborhood" – each neighborhood had a different number. The TV on the right corner however, next to the wall, was different. There was a man sitting behind a desk, with a big V behind his back, just like a newscast, he was saying something, but the TV was on mute.

"Carly, give me the remote."

She handed me the remote, and I pressed the mute button.

"_The situation remains the same. Several agents from Visualize just arrived on the spot, and they're trying to handle the situation calmly. We shall pray for things to work up for the best."_

"Freddie…" Sam poked me on the rib.

"Not now Sam!" I kept my eyes focused on the man in the white suit, and ignored everything else.

"_The Peace Patrol is trying it's best to keep everything under control. It's been three long hours of negotiations, and the troupes are doing their best to maintain peace. But this can lead to serious consequences."_

"Freddie!" She insisted.

"What?" I turned around, to find her eyes wide. She was scared. "What's the matter?"

"I thought you should see this…"

Sam pointed at the other TV, the small one on the left corner. The image as from a neighborhood three blocks from where I work. Unlike the others, this was the only one that has any kind of movement. On the TV I saw the Visualize people dressed in white uniforms, like the ones I wore in war. I dug my nails inside my palms, to keep myself in check; I did not want to remember that now. My eyes caught sight of Brad, trying to argue with a woman.

She had blood all over the left side of her face, a black eye and her lip was bruised. Her white night gown was also tainted with blood, and her hair was a black mess. In her hands, she held a white gun – the same kinds the Visualize people own. She as holding it against an older man's head. He was sweating like a pig, but his face was hard – he was trying not to show any emotion. I looked down at his balled fists, and saw residue of blood on them. I was pretty sure he was the one who did that to her face.

"_Please ma'am… put the gun down. We can solve this properly."_Brad argued.

"_No! You people took everything from me! Stay away from me!"_She yelled.

"_Ma'am I understand that…"_He tried to make a point but she cut him off.

"_You understand what? That you took over my life, so you could ruin it? You people destroyed my life! But I'm not going to let you control me anymore!"_

"_What are you going to do Celina?"_I was not surprised he knew her name, because that would be the first thing a negotiator would know. _"You're going to take his life? Do you think this is going to make it better?"_

"_Yes!"_She smiled. _"He's going to pay for every bruise, and every time he has hurt me!"_

"_Shut you, your stupid, frigid bitch! If you did what you were supposed to in the first place, we wouldn't be having this problem!"_The man screamed bitterly.

The young woman, Celina, hit the man in the head with the gun and he yelped and squirmed in pain. I could see the people hiding inside their houses, watching the show.

"_Shut up! You worm! Shut up! I'm not going to let you take anything else away from me!"_

"_Celina please… Let me take care of this situation."_Brad's voice was soft, but by the look on her face, she was not convinced at all. _"He is going to pay for whatever he did to you! But he's going to receive the right kind of punishment."_

"_You expect me to believe you are going to punish one of you? You seriously expect me to believe that?"_She screamed.

"_Yes! He might be an employer of Visualize, but he's still a citizen and he shall be judged like one!"_He insisted. _"I promise you. He won't hurt anymore. He'll pay for what he did."_

She seemed to be thinking about it for a moment, but then the man squirmed and cursed, and her expression goes back to sombre.

"_This is bullshit! I don't believe a word you say! But yes, he's going to pay and I'll make sure of it."_

There was a pop, and soon the man was sinking slowly to the ground. Sam jumped and grabbed onto my hand, and I held her close to me. Carly gagged and leaves the room, probably to throw her guts out. Nobody moved, not even Brad. Celina looked at the corpse in front of her, before pointing the gun to her own head.

"_You people will never take anything away from me again."_She smiled. _"I'll finally be free."_

Another pop and it was over. Sam buried her face in my back, gripping onto my shirt tightly. The woman sank to the ground, and Brad rushed towards her lifeless body. It was all over.

The pretty picture Visualize painted was now tainted.

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><p><em>AN: TA DA! Who liked that? Some drama and some action babe! Yep, I like that, and if you liked this chapter… wait till the next. I'm sensing there will be some mixed feelings about it, but what's sugar without a little spice and life without drama?_

_Anyway, I want to thank all of my readers for being sweet and patient. Since my baby is a little sick, I'm going to be off the computer for a little while, but I'll write when I can. Oh, and please comment about the chapter and the things you liked and stuff. I really like that!_

_But also, let's talk about something… some people said things were a bit rushed last chapter, but if you read the previous chapters, you'll how Sam and Freddie were stuck in the same place. The same routine where nothing ever happened. Some people were asking me to write de deed already, and now some other people say that that was too soon… well, I'm confused. Mostly, I base this story on the reactions of my readers, and if you give me mixed signals… well, I'll be kind of lost._

_It was already 15 chapters, and nothing **really** physical happened between them, so I thought it would be good to make them climb one more step, but if you really pay attention to that scene, you'll see how Sam is scared and embarrassed and Freddie is always taking his time, not entirely sure of his actions with her. There are still many issues to work on, between them, but sometimes people give into their desires and just forget about anything else. Who didn't do this once on your life? Let yourself be guided by desire, that's normal. What's not normal is to be stuck in the same place, never moving on. That chapter wasn't about being ready to be intimate, it was about being guided – maybe blinded – by your desire, by the flesh, something a lot of human beings do (most of us actually). So, if you guys could just trust me a little bit, and accept whatever comes in the next chapters, I promise to give you a good story to read._

_There's still so much to happen – the sex storyline can't take 30 chapters to end. But like I said before, even though this is an M rated fic, it's not all about sex. Sure, sex is a part of it, but not the biggest or most important part. And I like to thank __**Me **__– not me, someone who reviewed with the name __**Me **__– for understanding what I was doing. Thank you!_

_**Edited by Cheryl-seddie**_

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><p><strong>(*)(**) I might be wrong, so forgive me, but I'm pretty sure that's all means <strong>_**I love you, **_**in, French, Norwegian, German, Dutch, Irish, Japanese, Chinese, Spanish, Italian and Portuguese (the last one I know for sure, so…).**

_Kylie Minogue – Everything Is Beautiful._


	18. I Would Do Anything For You

**Genre: **_Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating: **_M_

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings: **_Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary: **_They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called__** Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

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><p>I clutch tightly to Freddie's shirt. It's been a long night and I'm afraid that if I let go he'll disappear. Right now, I really don't care enough to hide my fear. I want him to comfort me, to hold me and whisper reassurances in my ear. I want to feel protected at least once in my life.<p>

We left the house before Brad's arrival, and I could tell it was better that way. Freddie was raging over the things Brad kept from him, and I seriously didn't need any more drama. I had to beg him to leave it alone, and he eventually did so reluctantly. Carly was too shocked with the things she saw and being in her fragile state, she needed someone to take care of her too. I gave her water and put her to bed, promising her Brad would be home soon and everything was going to be okay. After that, I needed some reassurance myself, so I clutched tightly to Freddie, not planning to let go anytime soon.

He was quiet as we lay in bed and except for a few reassurances he whispered in my ear, he really didn't say anything. He was thinking - I knew that because his face was somber and his eyebrows were knitted – but he's not the only one. As we lie awake in our bed, several flashes of tonight's _show _appear in my head. I close my eyes and try to forget, but the more I try to, the more I think about it.

I can relate to that woman, because I really thought that was going to be me. When Visualize moved me here, I really believed I wasn't going to last long. Thoughts of violence and pain crossed my mind many times. I truly believed things were going to be a nightmare – until Freddie came along. I know in my heart that he could never hurt me, or even try to hurt me. I know that he is not that kind of guy and that everything that he does is for my benefit and not his own.

Sometimes I wonder why I even got this lucky, and I try not to punish myself too much for having something I don't deserve. It never ends up well. I don't like to think or remember, because it always ends up taking me to a bad place. A place where it's dark and cold and I don't want to be there alone.

The morning light creeps into the room, and I realize I haven't slept and suddenly my body and mind feel exhausted. I don't want to get up from this bed, I don't want to move and face reality. I wish I could just stay here where it's safe, but life is out there waiting for me.

I look up at Freddie to find his eyes trained to me, and suddenly I feel like crying. What I see is hurt in his eyes, not because of me, but because of him and because of how much pain I see in them, that's why I feel like crying. He traces his thumb over the line of my jaw, and then my cheeks. It's not until he presses his thumb under my eye that I know I'm crying. There's something about feeling weak that bothers me deeply, but not when I'm with him like this, with it being just the two of us.

All my life I had to be strong to protect myself because I had no one else to do it. When war came crashing down on me and I lost my mother, Melanie was the only thing I had and even though she was the oldest, I just knew it was my job to take care of her. She needed someone to be strong for her because she couldn't do it herself, so I was the strong one. I was the strength, but she was the heart – she was my heart. I would look at her and see hope, love, and caring, and she could look at me and see strength and the protection she needed.

Never once did I allow myself to be weak, so I don't handle it very well. But lying here in Freddie's arms, I forget I'm supposed to be the strong one. The way he holds me so protectively makes me realize that I need to take a step back and let someone else take care of me for once.

"I did a lot of things which I'm not proud of, and although I wish I could forget, I can't. I try not to dwell on the mistakes of my past, and sometimes it's even easier to blame it on everyone else. But deep down inside I knew I had a choice. Of course, at the time, I thought it was to kill or be killed – but now I've come to think if maybe there was something else I could've done. Some of my kills could have been avoided, but in the heat of things, it all gets messy." Freddie tells me – his words sound almost nonsensical. I don't understand what he's getting at. Apparently my face expresses my confusion, prompting him try and explain himself a little better.

"I'm telling you this because I want you to know that I would never do that to you. That man had a choice to make, and instead of taking the high road, he took the low road and he hurt someone who didn't deserve to be hurt. I want you to know that despite everything I've done in this life, I never meant to hurt anyone. I never wanted to do half of the things I did, but at the time it seemed like I didn't have a choice. With you it's different, Sam. I have a choice, I had it since the first day I saw you, and I'm so glad I made the right one."

I nod, telling him without words that I know what he is talking about. That I know he would never do that. That I know he wouldn't hurt me and I feel so lucky for the man that he is. And even with all of my fears and problems, he's the only thing in my life that seems right, that in its own damaged way brings light to my life – and I'm so thankful for that.

"I've made a lot of decisions in my life, but choosing to love you was the best of them all. It's the only good thing I know right now."

At his words my heart nearly stops. I can feel my breath catching in my throat and I can hardly believe what he's saying. My fingers urge to pinch myself so I can wake up from this pointless dream, but I know it's real when I look at him. He _loves _me, and it's so real, this feeling inside of me, that hurt. It aches and brings me joy at the same time. And I feel stupid and giddy and scared all at once.

"You really mean that?"

It's stupid, but it's all I can say. I need to know if he means what he says. I need to be sure this is real.

"Yes, Sam. I do. I love you. My life is filled with regrets, but feeling the way I feel about you will never be one of them."

I can't find any words to say, so I speak with actions. I move my body upwards and kiss him, ignoring the taste of morning, ignoring the lack of sleep, ignoring the time and the place – just ignoring the world and anything that's not related to Freddie. He holds my face in his hands, not touching me anywhere else, and this time I feel a different kind of need. It's not a need for physical contact or release, it's a need for love and affection.

We pull away and stare into each other's eyes. The way he looks at me wipes away all of the doubts left in my mind and any I could possibly have. His eyes are so deep and brown, and I've come to love them as much as I love him – because I do. I really, _really _do. For a moment – the rarest of the moments – I don't feel so afraid, I don't feel like someone is out to get me and the world is trying to hurt me. I can just trust that even if things are messed up, he'll be there to help me fix it. He'll be there to catch me, either literally or metaphorically. He'll just be there and I want to thank him for that. I need to thank him.

I decide it's time to be brave – to be fearless. I've never really been one to let my feelings show, and I don't think I ever had the capacity to express myself to anyone before. Only here and now do I feel the need to let him know what my feelings are. Not just because he deserves to hear it, but because I want to say it. I want to release these feelings from my chest where I've been hiding them. I want, for the first time in my life, to be true to my heart. I've never let myself be guided by my emotions before and maybe now it's time to change that.

"I do too, Freddie. I love you."

He seems startled for a moment, before blinking twice as his face assumes a more serious expression.

"You don't have to say it if you don't mean it. I don't want you to say it just because I said it – I want to hear you say it because you mean it."

"And I wanna say it because I mean it. I've been feeling this way for a while, but I was so afraid to put myself out there and get hurt. I was afraid you wouldn't love me back. And I couldn't blame you if you didn't, so I thought it was just easier to keep it to myself. That way I wouldn't get hurt."

Freddie lovingly caresses my face, staring into my eyes with the same sweetness his actions carry. I don't want anything more in this life than to be with him, because right now it's the only thing that seems to matter. I kiss him again, hoping to mask this uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. After last night, I'm afraid he's going to vanish from my hands like a cloud of smoke.

"My thoughts exactly." He says, chuckling very lightly and making me smile. "You make me happier than you realize." He whispers.

"Back at you, Benson."

I reward him with a sloppy kiss on the lips, and he tightens his grip on me. He's trying to hold on to me just like I'm trying to hold on to him – and never let go. Now that I know exactly how he feels, I want to be with him forever. I would do just about anything to be with him forever – even if it means living by Visualize's terms for the rest of my life.

* * *

><p>Freddie fixes us a quick breakfast and I push my chair close to his so I can be near him the whole time. This new found happiness spreads all over my being and I can hardly believe it's possible to smile and chew at the same time. He loves me, I love him and everything is exactly the way it should be. Right?<p>

Well, no. Because after the bliss from the moment passed, my mind went back to that dark place. Not even the fact that he loves me back can seem to mask my concerns.

Although I'm still a little shocked and a bit worried about what happened early this morning, I don't want him to know that. In his blissful state, I'd rather have him thinking everything is paradise. So when he kisses me between one fork of bacon and the other, I just smile and lean in. I don't want him to know I'm savoring these moments as if they were our last.

It shouldn't be this way. I should be allowed to love without fearing something bad was going to happen. I should be allowed to take my time with things I'm not ready for…but I'm not allowed that privilege. From what I understand, the woman from last night, Celina, was forced into her marriage duties, just like I thought I would be the first time I came here. That must've made her taken aback and traumatized by the act itself. I can imagine the pain she had to go through – I know exactly what she went through, without even truly knowing.

Apparently, the abuse he inflicted on her wasn't just in the bedroom, because she had had bruises all over her face – old and new. I cringe at the thought of being beaten up again, but I know Freddie would never do that to me and that's the only thing keeping me from emptying the contents of my stomach. As far as I could tell, she didn't fulfill her spousal duties, so her husband had to go and get it. Technically, what he did wasn't wrong because it's her obligation to provide such a thing, and what Brad said about punishing him was a lie. He couldn't, and he should've known that.

It says in the marriage book of laws that we must not deny intercourse to our spouses. We can't say no. It's the law.

I realize the scenario from last night isn't so different from mine. If I'm not able to provide such a thing as well, something bad is going to happen. I just know it. Sure, Freddie would never try and rape me, but that doesn't mean that evil won't come and find us. I can't be that woman – I can't be Celina. I can't be the kind of spouse who doesn't come through with her obligations. I just can't take that chance.

"You want a ride to work?"

Freddie's voice reaches me from the back of my mind, waking me up from my stupor.

"Y-yeah…sure."

I offer him a smile and kiss him right on the lips. Kissing him always was, and always will be, one of the best things I've ever experienced. So why am I so afraid to take that step? I know I want him, my body wants him, it needs him, it aches for him – so why am I not there yet? Whatever my reasons are, they have to be ignored. I have to what I have to do – soon.

"Okay. Let's clean this up later, alright?"

He grabs our dishes and puts them in the sink. I watch as he moves and how he does things. His hands are big and calloused – he's big. Freddie is a tall and strong man, rather stocky. Unlike the guy from last night who wasn't in the best shape, Freddie's body is perfection and if he really wanted to, he could do some damage to my face.

"You ready?"

"Yeah."

No, I'm not. But I have to be. I have to do whatever it takes to be safe – to keep him safe.

* * *

><p>Seems like news flies faster than the speed of light here. I get to work, hearing the hush-hush buzz from the customers that never seems to end. One costumer leaves; the other comes in, always talking about the same thing. They can't help but be shocked with what happened, and I can see that people are startled. I just wonder how Visualize is going to solve this now.<p>

"I remember her." Toby whispered to me.

We were in the kitchen, just the two of us, but I get why she felt the need to whisper. After seeing those cameras last night, I'm always wondering if I'm being seen or heard.

"You knew her?"

"I didn't _know_ her, know her, you know as a person and all. But she used to buy something from here every now and then."

"Oh. I don't remember seeing her…"

"She came mostly when you were back at the oven. Once she showed up with a bruised lip and I just knew. After that she stopped coming and her husband started to come here regularly. You must remember him…the disgusting guy who used to eat you up with his eyes shamelessly."

Now I remember him. This guy used to creep me out, always looking at me like I was some piece of meat. Not even when Freddie looks at me with desire written all over his face does he look like that. Once, he started to ask me questions about my life and my husband. I considered telling Freddie that the guy was bugging me, but no good could come of that, so I just traded places with Toby whenever he came inside the bakery, when what I really wanted to do was punch him in the face – but again, no good could come of that.

"Yeah, I remember him." I cringe.

"He gave you the creeps, didn't he?" I nod and she snorts. "He was a pig. I always wanted to kick his ass."

"Same here."

"I felt sorry for her, though. She always came in here with this sad look on her face…"

I only nod, not wanting to give my input on it. I know what she went through, and I cringe only at the thought of it.

"That's why I think it's just easier to do it and get it over with, you know? If you fight it, it only gets worse." I say.

Toby drops the spoon she was holding and looks at me dead in the eye. I recognize the look on her face and I know she misunderstood me. I feel the need to explain myself. I can't let her think Freddie would do that to me. Ever.

"No! No, I'm not talking about me!" I wave my dough-covered hands in front of my face.

"Did he ever…?"

I see the anger in her eyes. In many aspects, she's so much like me.

"No. Freddie is sweet and lovely. He would never do that to me. Ever!"

"The way you said it made me think…"

"I know, but don't worry. He wouldn't do that. He loves me."

I don't know why I said that but the words just slip out of my mouth effortlessly. Deep down inside, I think I wanted to tell someone. I wanted someone to know he loves me. If I could, I would share it with the world.

"Oh…he does?" She seems genuinely surprised, but in a good way.

"Yeah, he told me so this morning." I blush deeply.

"And you love him, right?" Toby smiles, and it's so contagious, I allow a grin to spread across my face.

"I do."

"Oh, so that's not a problem…but…is the sex bad? Because it sounds like it-"

"No! It's not…no…I…uh…I don't know…"

"You don't know what?" She chuckles.

Somehow, I feel comfortably uncomfortable talking to her about that. I certainly could use all of the help I can get in this department, and if I want to get things over with, I might as well start to be more open to people.

"I never…we never…not yet."

"What? You and your husband haven't…? Ever?"

"No."

"Oh my God, Sam! You know that you can get into deep shit because of that, right?"

Oh, I know it.

"Yeah, but don't worry. I'm going to do it…soon."

"Great." Her voice lowers, "because after what just happened last night, Visualize will come down hard on everyone for the smallest shit. Just be aware of that."

"I know."

"I heard there are people who went missing…you know, people who didn't do what they were supposed to do. Visualize doesn't want them influencing other couples or making it seem like its okay to just skip your duties. Just make sure you don't get yourself in trouble, alright?"

"Okay."

"And he loves you, you love him, so what's the big deal, really? You get me?"

I only nod in agreement, the fear in the pit of my stomach growing stronger.

* * *

><p>Here I am again, sitting at my vanity while Freddie uses the shower. Last time I was here, I could only imagine things that never went through my mind before. That night, desire took the best of me and it was worth it. Tonight, I'm nervous. And this uneasiness in my heart is threatening to ruin everything.<p>

I keep glancing at the bathroom door, waiting for Freddie to come out. I want this night to start soon just as much as I don't want it to. This feeling of confusion is making me a little sick to my stomach, but I hold tightly to my vanity and try to keep cool. I'm so damn nervous. I'm afraid I'm going to ruin everything – and I want tonight to be special in spite of it all. I want to be his and to be with him, so do the motives behind it even matter? _It might matter to him._

It definitely matters to him.

Things have been calm since the incident three days ago. I still hear the customers talking about it as well as people whispering in the streets, but it's been three days and Visualize didn't do or say anything. It's worse this way because we keep waiting and waiting for the blow to come, and I just know it's going to come when we least expect it. It's almost like they're waiting for the right time to do something and it's freaking me out.

There wasn't a minute that went by since my conversation with Toby that I don't feel anxious. She's right, we can get into deep shit for not doing what we're supposed to, and with my doctor's appointment just around the corner, it's better to just get things done. I know that Freddie would never accept it. He would turn me down if he knew my reasons, but I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something bad happened to him because of me. I want to be with him and for that to happen I have to sacrifice some things.

I man up – or woman up, I don't know – and brush my hair one more time before standing up and turning off the lights. I leave one light on so Freddie can see his way out of the bathroom. I fix the blue ribbon on my silken robe and try not to think about the fact I'm wearing close to nothing underneath it. The fancy undergarments Visualize got for me are see-through and although I'm uncomfortable, it doesn't matter – anything that I wear tonight isn't going to stay on for long.

I sit on the bed, leaning my back against the headboard, covering my lower body with the comforter and wait. Freddie walks out of the bathroom, ready for bed. He wears one of his many blue sweatpants and a white t-shirt that hugs his biceps nicely. I try to concentrate on him and how much I love him and how much I want him. He smiles at me for a moment and I know everything will be alright.

"I see you took care of the lights." He says with a smile that is boyish and cute.

"Come here." I whisper, trying to keep my voice calm.

He joins me on the bed and I pull him to me by his hand, giving him a deep kiss. His hands get lost in my hair and I wrap my arms around his neck for leverage as I press myself to him.

"I love you so much."

I don't give him the chance to object or answer as I kiss him again, this time removing the comforter from my legs.

"I love you too, Sam…"

Freddie notices for the first time that I'm not wearing one of my usual oversized pajamas and he frowns.

"Sam…what…?"

"I love you and I'm so happy to have you. I think about you all the time, even when I'm with you Freddie. There's nothing in this world I want more than you."

I untie the bow on my robe and let it slip off my shoulders. I watch as Freddie's eyes glue to my chest and the fancy bra I'm wearing – it's black and blue, and he can see my nipples through the fabric. His eyes flicker back to my face, with an unsure look on them.

"You know that you don't have to do this because of what happened, right?"

His voice is serious and I knew that if he knew, he would be terribly hurt.

"I know…I know all of that and I also know you would never hurt me. I know that you'll love me as much as I love you and that you'll make me happy. You already do, but you'll make me even more happy."

"Sam, don't do this because…"

"Stop questioning my motives!" I snap, but recollect myself in time to stop him from talking. "The only thing scaring me was the possibility of you not loving me back, and some nervousness too. Now that I know I'm so loved, I want to share this with you. I want you to show me how much you love me. Is that so hard for you to believe?"

He looks down at his hands and I place my hand under his chin to make him look up at me, then I take one of his hands in mine. He seems so innocent and so vulnerable and I almost back out and stop myself from ruining this moment forever. It should be special. He deserves that, but in my fear and desperation, I choose to walk down a path I might regret later. No, I won't. I won't because I love him. I love him and that's all that matters to me right now.

"I just don't want you to regret it."

"I won't…" I lie, "ever."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Freddie swallows hard, his hands a little sweaty. He's nervous too, although it's not his first time. But it is…with me. Our first time together, as one, and it should be more than special – it should be perfect, because he's perfect.

"Make love to me, Freddie."

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><p><em>AN: Before you say that this is moving too fast, I want to remind all of you of one thing I asked before… trust me! So, one person reviewed saying that I usually update on Sundays, well I must've like once or twice before, but I don't usually update on weekends. Sure, now that my schedule is messed up and so busy, I might end up updating on weekends, but I won't guarantee anything. I'll try not to take too long to update the next chapter, because I know you'll all be eager to read it and I don't want anyone to hate me, so… I'll work something out. You may have noticed the lack of attitude from Visualize about what happened last chapter, and that's because I'm still working on that. Anyway, I'm sorry it took too long for me to update… my bad. I'm currently working on some ideas for the future of this fic, and also some ideas for a Hunger Games fic. With the movie so close, I'm starting to have an itch to write a fic… I have so many Peeta feelings, and I'll try to put them on words, but since I'm probably the only person who ships him with Johanna (blame mockingjay), I think only my friends will read it :'( _

_I have a feeling you guys have no idea what I'm talking about, right?_

_**Edited by clarksonfan**_

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><p><em>Foster The People – I would Do Anything For You (I changed the name of this chapter because I was going to post, then I started to listen to their cd and I just had to. Love them so much! Best song ever!)<em>


	19. Everybody Lies

**Genre**_**:**__ Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

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><p><em><strong>AN: Please listen to the song "Colorblind" by the Counting Crows after Sam's line "You can trust me." - Trust me, my dear readers, the perfect song for that part is the Counting Crows' Colorblind. Put it on repeat and read that following scene. It will be perfect, I know, because I wrote it while listening to it.**_

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><p>"<em>Make love to me, Freddie."<em> She whispers.

Her words stir something deep inside of him. He is so unsure, so insecure, but he can't deny that he's been waiting for her to ask him this for a long time now. He has been waiting since the first day he saw her to make her his – to be hers. His fears and concerns are real and justified. He could never live with the pain of hurting her – it would hurt him more than it could hurt her. And she knows that. She knows it and it's so obvious. He said that over and over again. She wouldn't deceive him like that – she wouldn't hurt him like that.

"You sure you want this?"

He checks one more time, afraid to give into his desires before having the chance to know if she was being sincere.

"I'm sure. I want you. Tonight."

Sam kisses him softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. Freddie's hands slide to her waist and he squeezes her flesh, trying to stay calm and take it slow. He never desired anyone so much in his life, but it was more than that. His chest ached with the feel of her and what they were about to share with each other. Sam pulls away from the kiss to press her lips against the crook where his shoulder and neck met. She sucks the skin between her teeth, allowing herself to taste him, and she loves when he groans softly in response to her actions.

His fingers slide into her hair; he runs them down her curls, almost if he was brushing her hair. Sam doesn't know why, but she likes that so much. She sighs against his skin before kissing her way up to his jaw line, loving how he grunts softly again. She likes having an effect on him. It makes her feel wanted – seductive. Nothing about her is sexy, she thinks – she is simple and maybe a bit of a tomboy. She doesn't know how to be sexy and seductive, so it's completely gratifying to have him panting just with the feel of her lips on his skin.

Freddie's skin burns wherever she touches him. He's been waiting for this for so long and he would sleep contently with just this little make out session – but tonight she wanted more. He considers pulling away and starting a conversation with her, just to be sure she's ready for this, but then he feels her straddling his legs and he forgets what he was thinking about previously. With one of his hands he cradles the back of her neck as they kiss, while the other wraps around her waist to bring her closer.

Sam pushes her chest against his, feeling the hardness of his muscles pressing against her. Her hands slide from his neck to his shoulders, then his arms. She squeezes his biceps and doesn't let go. She marvels to herself at the feel of him, and just how rock solid his body is. Her nails dig into his heated flesh when he slips his tongue pass her teeth and inside her mouth, finding hers with a shy stroke. Sam moans quietly against his lips, moving her hips against his in reflex.

Freddie grips her waist to keep her steady – he doesn't want her moving yet. He needs to take things slowly, step by step, so she won't be startled. He kisses her slowly and she responds to him with a sigh, running her hands up and down his arms. Sam deeply appreciates him taking his time, maybe this way she'll have enough time to get rid of her nervousness. He deserves it, she thinks, a woman who can completely appreciate whatever he does. She wants to appreciate it, she already does even through her nervousness, but she wants to give herself completely to him – mind, body and soul. He deserves nothing less than everything.

He pulls away from the kiss to look at her for a moment. Sam tries to kiss down his neck, but he holds her face in between his hands, keeping her from pulling away. He needs to see, to look deep inside her eyes and search for any glint of fear. Of course it's normal to be scared, it's her first time – he assumes. Then it strikes him. He doesn't know for sure if it is and he needs to know, he needs to be sure of how he will proceed with his actions.

"Sam?"

"Yes, Freddie?"

"I'm going to ask you something and I need you to answer me honestly, even if it's too much to ask. Okay?"

Sam gulps loudly, afraid of what he might ask. He caresses the back of her neck, making lazy circles with his thumbs, and she finds that incredibly relaxing. She sighs and closes her eyes for a moment before opening them back up and looking him dead in the eye. She's strong and brave. She's always been a good liar. So if he asks something she cannot answer, she'll just lie about it. But she knows she can't do that to him. Freddie is not some Visualize guard she can coldly mislead – Freddie is the love of her life.

"Okay." She whispers.

"Have you ever…have you ever done that? This…I mean…you know…what we're about to do…Have you ever been with a man?"

He stutters and stumbles in his words, trying to be calm and articulated, when he's actually a nervous wreck inside and out. He gulps when she looks down at her lap, blushing furiously. Freddie waits for her to take deep breaths and calm herself, to hear her answer. He wants more than anything to hear a _no,_ that she had never been with another man, that no one else has ever laid hands on her that way, but he can't blame her if it's otherwise. A dark fear grows in the pit of his stomach, remembering something she said the first night she was here when she wanted him to take her forcefully. He prays to God it's just in his mind, that no one ever hurt her that way.

Subconsciously, she's been waiting for this question. In fact, she wonders why he hasn't asked this before. Of course he would want to know, and she should have been ready to answer, but this is such a delicate and intimate subject…so when he finally asks, she blushes like there's no tomorrow. She never directly talked to someone about sex and what it meant – those classes at the community center sure don't count. She was completely oblivious about it, and after what she witnessed in the past, she took sex as something vile and hurtful. Only, when she felt Freddie's hands on her the other night, making her feel breathless and hot, she started to consider it might be something good – something worth killing for.

The way she felt in his arms that night couldn't be compared. It was a unique and blissful experience. She knew he would make this night as good as the other – or even better. He would take his time and make love to her, and he wouldn't hurt her, and at the end of the night she would sleep in his arms, feeling completely loved and satisfied – and hopefully he would feel the same. _This is Freddie, _she thinks, _patient, sweet and loving… he loves me and I love him. There's nothing to fear. Nothing else in this world matters._

"No, I haven't." She whispers through her embarrassment.

He puts his fingers under her chin and tilts her head up to look in her eyes. Her eyes are beautiful and navy blue and Freddie realizes that he loves them. Everything that he is, everything he'll be and everything that he needs lies inside those gorgeous eyes. He wants – _needs_ – to look at them forever, to make sure they'll always look back at him the same way she's looking at him right now. Freddie kisses her ever so softly, pulling away to nuzzle his nose against her cheek. He knows she likes that, it always makes her giggle.

"No one else has ever touched me before, and I never wanted anyone to do it. You were my first kiss, and my first love, and I want you to be my first too, not just because we have to do it, but because I want it so much. I trust you, Freddie. I love you."

"I love you too, Sam. More than you'll ever realize. And it amazes me how fast and deep you crept into my heart, but I don't care. As long you're there, the rest doesn't really matter."

She bites her lip, fighting the tears threatening to spill out of her eyes.

"But I need to know why. Why now? Why tonight?"

Sam cradles his face in her hands and kisses him so, _so _softly, merely grazing her lips against his. Freddie's hands slide to her back, and he feels the line of her well-marked spine because of the way she arches to kiss him. He imagines her arching her back underneath him, pressing her breasts to his chest. He has to fight a groan, not allowing himself to be aroused.

"I can't say that that night didn't have an influence on my decision." She starts.

"Sam…I-" He looks like he's about to become furious, but she kisses him again to shut him up.

"When I saw what that man did and the consequences of his actions, I did a lot of thinking. I remembered the first night I was here, scared and alone, almost shitting my pants of nervousness. And I remembered you and how you handled the situation. You could have taken me there and then. It is after all your right and I wouldn't have put up a fight, but you didn't. You refused to do it, for me. That was the first thing you did for me and after that you kept doing these things – these amazing things – just for my benefit. I wondered how I got so lucky. I looked at you, and I knew I loved you and everything about you. That night made me appreciate you in ways you can't understand. So I decided it was time for us to be one, because this is something we can do – together. And not because we have to, but because we want to. I want to be with you forever, Freddie."

And she does. She wants to be with him and keep him safe. She can't lose him, and if what she needs to do to keep him is this…she'll gladly give herself to him. After everything and everyone she already lost, Sam can't even consider losing anyone else – Freddie especially.

"I would never do that."

"I know that, and that's why I want to share this with you. Because you allowed me to save it for someone I loved – and that someone is you."

He doesn't answer. He just takes her in his arms and kisses her. Lips touch, part and mingle. Tongues find each other, tangle and caress. Fingers touch, squeeze and dig into flesh. Freddie scoops her in his arms and lays her down on the bed, hovering above her, keeping his weight on his upper arms, afraid to crush her. Sam lifts one of her legs to the side of his body, and his hand finds its way to the back of her knee. She gasps against his lips, digging her fingers into his silky hair.

He tickles her a little just to ease the tension. Sam giggles like a school girl, feeling so very stupid for doing so. Freddie smiles and proceeds to kiss down her neck and throat. His lips graze against her skin, and he's gentle and patient, wanting to savor every feeling and every taste of that moment. He thrusts his tongue out to lick her pulse point, and Sam lets out a loud cry, her skin shivering under his mouth.

Freddie kisses her throat and makes his way down to her breasts. He takes a moment to be mesmerized at how her chest rises and falls with every breath. Sam blushes under his intense gaze, fighting the urge to cover herself from his eyes and hide underneath the bed. Freddie traces his fingers over the edge of her bra, pressing his thumb against her nipple, and he earns a deep gasp from his wife. He kisses in between the valley of her breasts and palms her flat stomach.

She feels goosebumps in the pit of her stomach when his torso accidentally brushes against her center. _Everything will be okay, _she thinks, smiling down at him. Freddie caresses her cheek with one hand, sliding his fingers into her smooth hair and kissing the very tip of her nose.

"You're so beautiful." He states.

"Thank you." She whispers.

He kisses her cheeks, then her eyelids, her eyebrows, her chin and her forehead. His fingers trace the small hole that is her belly button and Sam raises her hips a little bit, feeling the need for friction. Her hands rest on his back where she softly scratches the clothed skin – receiving a deep growl from Freddie. She kisses the side of his head, then his cheekbone – just where his dimples sometimes live. She traces her fingers over the scar above his eyebrow, and Freddie wraps his knuckles around her wrist, moving her hand away from him.

"Did I do something wrong?" She asks.

"No…I just…I'm not pretty and smooth like you…"

"I don't care. You're beautiful to me."

She kisses him before he can argue, thrusting her tongue pass his teeth. Freddie groans and rests a bit more of his weight on her, pressing her against the mattress. Sam seems to enjoy it because she moans softly and moves her foot to run along his calf. Every bit of skin on his body shivers and he lets out a loud purr. Freddie never knew that could feel so good, that this part of his body was so sensitive. That had never happened before, and it was probably because he wasn't with Sam. She does it again, lifting the material of his sweatpants in the process and running her toe against his hairy shin.

"Oh…Sam."

He breaks the kiss and tucks his face on the crook of her neck, and she does it again and again and again.

"So good…" He moans.

Sam smiles proudly and turns her head to the side to kiss his cheek and take his earlobe in between her teeth. She has no idea what she's doing, but she keeps counting on his responses and being guided by pure instinct. She's not experienced like him…he _has_ been with other women. And she feels the need to ask, to know this.

"Freddie?"

He lifts his head up to look at her.

"Yes?"

She looks away and gathers the nerve to ask.

"You have been with other women, right?"

Freddie exhales heavily. He looks towards the headboard and nods.

"Yes, Sam, I have."

"How many?"

His eyes widen a little bit, and he blushes.

"I-I…I don't know…I don't keep count. I didn't keep count…"

"Oh…"

"But every single time I've been protected." He rushes to say. "And I've been tested for diseases, so you don't have to worry about that because I'm not going to giv-"

Sam presses his lips together with her fingers, smiling at his dorkish ramble.

"I know, I've been too. I wasn't referring to that."

"Yeah…sure, I know." He stutters through his embarrassment.

"It's just that you have more experience than me and I…I don't know…I feel kind of dumb in this department."

"You don't have to worry. First times are always like that. My first time was a mess, I was so nervous my hands couldn't stop shaking. It took me about two times to get the hang of it." He chuckles.

"How old were you?"

"Fourteen." He plays with the ends of her curls.

"Fourteen? But that's too soon!"

"I was already a soldier and a killer, so it wasn't that big of a deal." He shrugs.

"Were you ready?" She asks with a pained expression on her face.

"No. But it didn't matter."

"How was it?"

He feels a little uncomfortable with all of her questions, but he gets why she's asking them, so he tries his best to answer them all.

"Well, it's not with great honor that I say this, but it was quick. I was fourteen so let's just say I didn't have the best stamina. Of course I learned with time, but that was because I had a good teacher." He smiles.

"Oh…"

Sam feels a pang of jealousy in her chest.

"Who was she?"

"Her name was Lola." He smiles. "Well, not her real name anyway. Her real name was Susan, but she went by Lola."

"Why? Was she undercover or something?"

Freddie laughs at her innocence, and kisses her sweetly on the lips.

"No, Sam, she was a hooker."

"A hooker?" Her eyes widen with shock.

He sighed, feeling the need to explain himself better.

"Okay, alright…I was fourteen, but I already was one of the best guys in the troupe. One night, there was an attack and I was able to get to the tank first, so I could save most of the men. So my mentor…my captain, he told me I was almost a man, and to be one – officially – there was only one thing left to do. We were in Las Vegas, and he knew a few underground strip clubs, so he took me there. He introduced me to Lola and she took my hand and led me to this room in the back of the club."

Sam gulped, feeling the nervousness of hearing about his first time. She really didn't want to know what shenanigans he did with _Lola, _or Susan or whatever the hell her name was.

"Well, she was nice to me, telling me I didn't need to be scared. It was quick, like I said, and after it was over she actually gave me a candy bar. She told me no kid should grow up so fast."

He looked thoughtful for a moment and took a deep breath.

"She was nice. And I didn't have a lot of nice going on for me back then, so I got attached. Not in love, like I am with you, but I guess maybe a little dependent. We stayed in the Las Vegas base for a month, and every time I needed to talk I went to her."

"How old was she?"

"Twenty five."

Sam gazed towards the window and kept quiet, while Freddie looked absently towards the headboard. The silence was too much for him. He needed to know what she was thinking.

"Do you regret it?" She asked before he could speak.

"What? Having sex with Lola?"

"Yes."

"Well…no. Sure, it was weird and nerve wrecking, but no I don't regret it. Because meeting her was crucial for me – it helped me keep my feet on the ground. It helped me keep my humanity."

"What happened to her?"

"She died. There was a bombing, and there was no time for her to leave the club. She was working…she wasn't supposed to work that night, but…if she worked on Saturday it meant she had the afternoon off on Sunday…and she said she wanted to take me somewhere, so she was going to trade shifts…with her friend. And then…"

He bites hard on his lips, feeling this painful lump in his throat. Although he didn't directly kill Lola, the weight of her death fell upon his shoulders.

"Hey…"

Sam held his face in between her hands and caressed his cheeks.

"It's not your fault Freddie."

"I know…"

She kissed him sweetly on the lips, then deepened the kiss, making him forget about his sorrow. The kiss grew harder and hotter, and his hands began to travel down her sides. He was so sweet and kind, she thought, always carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. But he was wounded – just like her. And just like her he needed to be fixed. _Maybe we can fix each other, _she thinks. Freddie nips on her bottom lip, making Sam gasp in surprise, digging her fingers into his arms.

Freddie lowers his head to kiss her neck, throat, and then makes his way back to her chest. He kisses and sucks the parts of her breasts that spill out of her bra and Sam tosses her head back with a moan. She never knew her breasts to be this sensitive. They sure didn't respond like that to her own touch – but then again, her body had never responded like that to anyone except him.

Freddie runs his tongue inside the edge of her bra, wanting to taste what's underneath it, and keeps palming the other.

"Freddie…" She moans in spite of herself.

He kisses her with passion and yet manages to keep it sweet, appreciating her lips with his. Sam sneaks her hand inside his shirt, needing to feel his skin, needing to discover him. She tugs on the hem of his shirt, begging him to remove it, making it clear she wants to feel him.

Freddie feels his shirt being lifted off his body and suddenly he panics. He breaks the kiss and pulls away from her, kneeling on the bed.

"What's the matter?" She asks, sitting up.

"I…I don't want you to see me."

"Why not? You saw me…"

"It's different, Sam." He insists.

"Why? Why is it different?" She asks, and he just shakes his head. "Tell me why."

"I'm…I'm covered in scars, Sam. I'm not prefect like you, okay? My body is…ugly."

"I doubt that." She shakes her head.

"It's true."

"Do you seriously think I'd care about that? I don't care about the scars you have inside…" she places a hand over his heart, "why would I care about the scars on the outside?"

"I'm just…I'm embarrassed."

Sam takes his hands and kisses every one of his knuckles, then cradles his face gently in her hands, kissing him deeply. She pulls away and rests her forehead against his.

"You can trust me." She whispers.

He nods, giving in, and she tugs on the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his torso and off of his body. She throws the cloth on the floor and pulls away just a little to look at him. His torso caries many scars and some of them even look like bullet holes. The right side of his body has a big, fading burn scar that continues under his arm. He has a lot of scars, marks, and old bruises, but the only one that caught Sam's attention was a small one, just under his heart. She traces her fingers over it and she feels him taking a deep breath.

"It was a surprise attack and I didn't have any time to put on my vest…The doctor said that if the guy had shot me one inch above, it would have killed me."

Sam bends and kisses the scar, feeling him tense up before relaxing again.

"I'm thankful it didn't." She announces.

She kisses him one more time, running her hand down his chest and abdomen. He tenses and relaxes under her touch, his breath starting to change. She moves back to look at him, appreciating him. Even with all of his scars, he managed to stay beautiful, sexy and strong. Sam straddles his legs and presses her chest to his, hearing him groan in pleasure. He grabs her face and kisses her, hard. Sam pants and digs her hands into his hair, supporting her elbows on his shoulders.

Freddie moans and grabs onto her backside, squeezing her flesh, leaving the imprints of his fingers on her white skin. Sam pulls back and pushes him backwards onto the bed, staring down at him. She caresses his face and lowers her hands to his torso, running her fingers over every scar.

"You're beautiful to me. You have no idea how attracted I am to you and how much I love your body." She states.

He gulps, feeling a rush of pleasure shoot down to his crotch. Sam kisses every scar, giving special treatment to each one of them, taking her time with him. Freddie groans and squirms underneath her, and when her breasts accidentally brush against his erection, she finds herself wet once again. Sam throws her head back and moans, giving Freddie the opportunity to flip her over and trade positions with her, kissing her for all she was worth.

With him on top, she presses her chest against his by arching her back. Sam reaches for the clasp of her bra and opens it. Freddie helps her get rid of it, more than eagerly tossing it somewhere in the room. His mouth finds her breasts, and she moans when his lips close around her nipple while his hand toys with the other. He teases her, sucking softly on her nipples and running his hand on the inside of her thigh.

He almost reaches her core, but always retracts his hand just before he gets there. Sam scolds him for making her suffer, and he chuckles against her neck, kissing her there. His mouth finds her in a deep, heated kiss, at the same time his hand finds her inside her underwear. Sam groans and digs her nails into his back, making his cock throb. He presses his finger against her bundle of nerves, finding out how wet she is.

"My God, Sam…" he cries out.

Sam gasps and spreads her legs wider for him. He keeps rubbing her for a while, then lets his fingers lower to her entrance, just feeling even more of how wet she was. Sam tugs on his shoulders, and he lifts his head to look at her.

"Let's take off the rest of these clothes." She tells him.

He nods and kisses her one more time before sitting up to remove her final undergarment. Hooking his knuckles around the waistband of her panties, Freddie slides them down her slender legs and Sam bites her lip, trying to stay calm. She feels the urge to run and hide, to cover herself, to say that she is sorry, but she chooses to sigh and take a deep breath. Freddie tosses the last piece of lingerie on the floor and looks towards his wife. He sees a deep blush on Sam's face, and she's looking anywhere but at him. He smiles at how cute she looks right now, and grabs one of her feet, delivering a light kiss on it.

Sam giggles a little, and then he grabs her other foot kissing it gently. Normally, she would think that gross, but tonight is about him, and she can't deny him the simplest of actions. Besides, it doesn't feel so bad. He kisses her shin all the way up to her knee, then moves to the other leg to do the same. When he reaches her inner thighs, Sam gasps, and pulls on his shoulders. She grabs the base of his neck and kisses him passionately.

Freddie grazes his hands over her breasts, slightly pinching her nipples making Sam gasp into his mouth. One of his hands travels down to her stomach and finally to the place where she feels so hot. With two fingers he caresses her lips, slowly pressing one in between to feel her wetness. She breaks the kiss and cries out at such an intimate touch. Stirred by her response, Freddie presses two fingers against her mound of nerves and begins to rub.

"Oh…" Sam gasps, throwing her head backwards onto the pillow.

Freddie kisses her exposed neck before lowering his lips to her breasts. The sensations he's providing her drives Sam mad with desire, and she tugs desperately at the waistband of his pajama bottoms, begging him to remove them. When he ignores her plea, Sam holds his wrist, stopping the hand that pleasures her.

"Freddie, please…take off your pants."

"What's the rush?" He teases her with his fingers.

"Ah…" She gasps, momentarily losing track of her thoughts, "please…I want to see you."

She purrs her plea into his ear, and Freddie wonders how he can ever tell her no when she's talking to him like that.

"How could I ever deny you anything, Sam?"

He pulls away to discard his pants and his boxers. Sam sits up to watch him undress. He slides the pants down his legs and Sam almost whistles when she sees his ass. It's perfect and _it's definitely pure muscle, _she thinks. His thighs are great as well, strong and manly, but scarred, just like the rest of him. She feels the need to run her hands over them, to kiss them, just like she did with his torso. But when he turns around, she gasps, because it's the first time she sees him – all of him.

Sam never saw a cock before, not even in books. They didn't have any pictures to show her, nor did she ever want to see one of those things. _It's definitely weird_, she muses, _but not a bad kind of weird. _It's a long and thick thing that has hair above it and something else hanging behind, but it's not the scariest thing Sam ever saw. Freddie blushes and tries to cover his erection, but Sam is fast and grabs his hands.

"You saw me…I want to see you." She whispers.

He nods, giving her what she wants. Sam gazes at his erect cock, and tilts her head to the side in wonder. She places one hand over his navel, and proceeds to slide it all the way to his crotch. Freddie shivers and a soft moan escapes his lips. She runs her fingers slightly over the pubic hair, and Freddie flexes his hands, trying to control the throbbing on his lower areas. Giving into curiosity, Sam finally wraps her small hand around his length, making Freddie jump and growl.

"Did I do something wrong?" She takes her hand off him like he's on fire.

"N-N-No…" he stutters, "that was nice…good…more than good…"

"Oh…" she looks back down to his penis, "you want me to do it again?

"Only if you want it…" He responds, caressing her cheek.

"I do."

Sam wraps her hands around him again, holding it tightly and he winces.

"Don't, uh…hold it so tight…here, let me show you."

He covers her hand with his, showing her how he likes it. Freddie slides her hand up and down his shaft, shivering the whole time. He guides her hand over the head, covering it with the moisture coming out of him, and slides it back down his shaft. After a few strokes, he releases her hand, and Sam continues doing it on her own. She likes the way he moans when she touches him, and the way he throws his head back, and the way he gulps – it all sends a direct message to the center of her body.

Freddie pants and digs his short nails into his palm, trying to steady his breathing, but it's hard, so very hard. She continues her ministrations, eyes on his cock, looking at him in amazement. Her gaze lowers to the curls hanging behind his dick, and she releases him to softly squeeze his balls.

"Ah! Oh God!" He cries out.

"What are these?" She asks, repeating her actions.

"It's…uh…they are my…uh…balls." He says in between pants.

"Huh…got it."

She squeezes him with one hand and strokes him with the other. Freddie moans to a point he can't take anymore more, so he grabs her wrists and pulls her away.

"What happened?"

"You have to stop…" he whispers, completely out of breath, "or else I'm going to finish soon."

"Oh, okay."

He kisses her roughly, grabbing onto the back of her thighs and making her lie down on the bed. Freddie spreads her legs, and she gasps when his hardness brushes against her. He delivers hot and open-mouthed kisses all over her neck, breasts, stomach, all the way down to her thighs. He sucks the skin of her inner thigh, delighting himself with her responses.

"Sam?"

"Y-Yeah…?"

She looks so flushed and out of breath – and he loves that. He's actually never seen her more beautiful.

"I'm going to put my mouth on you…down there. Okay? Don't be startled."

"Why?" She jumps up, holding her weight on her elbows. "Why would you want to do that?"

He chuckles and kisses her knees.

"Because it will make you feel good, Sam."

"What if I taste bad down there and you get disgusted?"

"I doubt that will ever happen."

"What if it does?" She yells. "What if it does and you want to stop?"

"Alright, alright, calm down. Let's try it out, if you taste bad I won't do it, okay?"

"How are you going to try it out?" She asks, trying to clench her thighs shut.

Freddie laughs one more time, kissing her sweetly, before sitting up. He parts her legs, and she puts up a little fight, but allows him to in the end.

"Like this…"

He holds out the palm of his hand for her, then lowers it down to her folds. He presses two fingers in between her pussy lips and she gasps, throwing her head back a little. He removes them and gives her time to lift her head up and look at him, then he sticks his fingers into his mouth and sucks off her juices. She tasted just like he expected, sweet and spicy, a perfect combination.

"Mmmm…you taste so good, Sam."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying." He crawls over her to kiss her again, making her relax in his arms. "I'll never lie to you."

Sam gulps, feeling guilty. A pang in her chest almost makes her back out and tell Freddie she's scared of losing him, and that's why she decided to move on with their relationship. She knew it would hurt him, but at least it would be the truth. He wouldn't lie to her – so she shouldn't lie to him. _Some lies are better than the truth, _she decided. _I'm not going to back out, this needs to be done._

"Okay. I believe you." She breathes through her mouth.

"Alright. If you want me to stop, just say it, alright?"

"Alright."

Freddie scoots down, placing tiny kisses all over her belly. Sam squirms, fighting with the fear taking place in her chest. She feels Freddie kissing her inner thighs, his hot breath warming her up even more, and she puts all of her trust in him. If he says it's to make her feel good, then she'll believe him.

The first contact of his tongue against her clit makes her jump, but not like his fingers did the first time around – this was much more intense. He places a tiny kiss over her mound of nerves, before sucking on it gently. Sam cries out his name, arching her back from the bed. He spreads her lips with his fingers and starts to lick her more vigorously. Sam claws at his head, digging her nails into his scalp, failing to notice how he growled. Freddie moved his tongue to her entrance, softly sinking it into her, and she lets out a long and raw moan.

Sam releases his hair and tugs on the sheets, feeling his lips taking the best of her. Her body is hot and throbs with desire. Her hands find her breasts, and she instinctively squeezes them. Freddie, who has been watching her the whole time, groans with the sight of her feeling herself, and his tongue vibrates inside of her.

"Oh…Ah! Freddie!" She cries out.

He continues to suck and lick, eventually nibbling on her folds. Sam can feel that familiar pressure in her stomach and she knows something is about to happen. Her pulse is accelerating, and a thin sheet of seat collects against every exposed part of her body. Sam moans desperately, reaching her end. She comes in his mouth, screaming his name, and he takes it all, riding her storm of aftershock with his tongue. When she's done, she collapses against the bed, panting his name over and over again.

"So?" He asks.

Freddie lays half of his weight on her and half on his arms, and kisses her neck that is now hot and covered in sweat. Sam tries to find her voice, or ways to express what she's feeling, but there are none. What he did just now to her couldn't be compared to anything he had ever done before. She allows her body to calm down before she can make any movement.

"Was it that bad?"

"N-No…" She pants.

"See…all you had to do was trust me."

She nods, slowly breathing in and out through her mouth. He chuckles and keeps kissing her neck until she's ready for anything else.

"Freddie?"

"Yeah?"

He raises his head to look at her, supporting his chin in between her breasts.

"I want you now."

Her voice cracks and she clear her throat to repeat herself.

"I want you now. Can we please…now?"

He nods, holding her gaze for a second. He thinks about how much she matters to him and how fast he came to love her. She is his everything and all he wishes is to make her happy. If she wanted the world, he would give it to her. He would give her the moon and the stars and everything else she desired. This girl – this _woman _– crept into his heart and claimed him as her own and he didn't mind at all.

"If you want me to stop, say the word and I will. Okay?"

"Okay." She nods, leaning up to kiss him softly. "Alright."

Freddie cradles her face in his hands, appreciating her features one more time before kissing her deep and passionately. He tries to show her, to put into the kiss everything he feels for her. Sam tugs on his hair, bringing his head closer to deepen the kiss. His hands travel all over her. They squeeze her breasts, caress her sides, and cup her pussy. Sam gasps, feeling his fingers working her back to that hot and needy state. She moans and writhes, feeling her body ready again.

"I'm ready…" She whimpers.

"You sure?" He asks one more time.

"Yes…I'm sure."

"Alright…" He takes a deep breath, preparing himself to meet paradise. "Sam?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He gives her a deep and long kiss, pushing his tongue pass her teeth, and places the head of his cock against her folds. He lets her wetness cover his tip by sliding it up and down against her.

"Oh God!"

She gasp, when the head of his cock presses against her clit. Freddie kisses down her neck lovingly, still pressing against her mound of nerves.

"Freddie…oh Freddie…" She moans.

He groans, not able to wait another minute to be inside of her. Freddie positions himself against her entrance and pushes carefully into her, so only the tip of his cock enters her. She gasps, not expecting the sting that rushes through her. And when he pushes further, the sting becomes an excruciating pain. Sam bites her lip, forcing herself not to cry. She never, ever felt a pain so strong before in her life.

Freddie groans, feeling her so tight around him. He buries his face against the crook of her neck, and keeps pushing and pushing. Her barrier is thick, and hard to break, so he moves gently, but that doesn't ease the pain for her. Sam bites harder on her lip, almost drawing blood, and the tears spill out of her eyes. He stays still inside of her, giving her body the chance to adjust to his rather above average size.

Sam takes deep breaths to steady herself, trying to ignore the pain that cuts through her – he's ripping through her insides. Flashes of memories invade her mind, and she prays for them to leave. Freddie lifts his head to look at her, and almost pulls away when he sees her tears.

"What's wrong?"

"It just…it hurts." She chokes out.

"I know, Sam…I'm so sorry I hurt you. But it's going to get better, I promise."

"Okay…"

He kisses her, letting her adjust and get used to it all, patiently waiting for her. Sam tried to ignore the throbbing pain in her lower area, she tries to ignore the bad memories that come rushing through her mind, making her shake in fear.

"Move." She tells Freddie.

And he does. He pulls back slightly, and thrusts forward gently. The pain returns, along with memories of a hot and painful day. He moves and buries his face back in the crook of her neck, kissing the skin there. She sees a pair of blue eyes staring at her through pain and suffering. The man doesn't stop moving, and she knows that he is hurting her, but she doesn't do anything to stop him – she wants to distract him so Sam and Melanie can hide.

She feels so tight around him, it's the best feeling in the whole world – it's the best he ever had. She is his personal paradise, and he groans as he eases himself back into her again. He knows he's hurting her, and not even the pleasure of being united with her can mask that pain he feels. He keeps telling himself it will get better, and she'll start to enjoy it as much as he is enjoying it in just a little bit.

Sam presses her hand over her mouth to hide a cry from Freddie, but it's too late, he sees it and supports his weight on his arms.

"Do you want me to pull out?"

"No!" She cries out in panic, tears flooding out of her eyes.

"Does it still hurt?"

The truth is, most of the pain went away, the thing haunting her right now is the memories.

"No…I'll be fine, just…just keep going." She chokes out.

He obeys her, thrusting his hips carefully and slowly against her. It's so hard for him to keep a slow pace, but he would do anything to keep her from hurting. Sam yelps silently, biting harder on her lips to keep her mind on what really matters – Freddie. He sees the distress on her face, and the tears, and it's all just too much for him to handle.

"I'm not going to keep going while you cry." He says, pulling away, but she locks her ankles behind his back to keep him there.

"No, please, Freddie…just keep going. I'll shut up."

"I'm not going to do that."

He grabs both of her legs and forces them off him, pulling out all the way. Sam sits up desperately and tries to grab onto his shoulders to bring him back to her, but Freddie gets up from the bed.

"Freddie, please…just get back here. I'll cover my mouth. Let's just get this over with!"

She couldn't have said anything more cruel to him. So this was all a lie and she really didn't want this?

"I knew it! I knew what this was about, but I allowed you to fool me because I trusted you so much!"

"No…! You don't understand!" She cries out, kneeling on the bed.

"Then explain it to me, Sam!"

"I'm just trying to keep you safe! I just want us to be out of trouble…I can't be like that woman Celina and let something bad happen to us – to you!"

"What?" He yells. "What? Now you're deceiving me for my own benefit?"

"Freddie, try to understand…" Tears roll down her cheeks like a waterfall. "My doctor's appointment is in a few days!"

"What about me, Sam? What about what I feel? Does my opinion matter to you at all?"

"It does! I just knew…I just knew that if I told you that you wouldn't agree and I-"

"So instead you just lied to me?" He yells and runs his hands through his hair.

"I'm sorry…" She mumbles.

"What else did you lie about, huh? Do you even love me at all?"

"I do!" She yells desperately. "I love you! I didn't lie to you when I said that! I love you, that is why I did it, because I love you and I want to keep you safe! Once we got this first time out of the way it would be so much better…I-I want to be with you and I like the way you touch me...please, let's try again…I won't cry anymore." She begs.

He looks down at her and she's a mess. Her hair is messed up, her eyes are filled with tears that wet her whole face, and her skin is flushed. Freddie feels that stupid pang in his chest, and the desperation starts to crawl all the way up to his brain. His breath become uneven and he can feel his mouth dry. Rage starts to pool in the pit of his stomach, and he knows that he needs to get out of here – now.

Freddie collects his clothes, putting his pants back on, and when he's about to put on his shirt, Sam takes a hold of it, wrestling with him for the shirt.

"Please, no!" She begs. "Please, Freddie, please!"

"Get off me!" He snaps angrily, causing her to step back.

"Please stay! Don't go!" She screams. "I love you."

"You're a liar!" He yells at her, making her flinch.

At this rate he's not going to be able to control what comes out of his mouth anymore. He can feel his chest rising and falling quickly with every breath and his mind is fogged – drowning in rage. He's sinking back to that dark place again, this time quicker than ever before.

"No!" She argues.

"You broke my trust! I knew it! I knew you didn't love me! You're just lying!"

"I do!" She cries, choking on her tears. "I do, please believe me!"

"Stop lying to me!"

He slaps the only lamp that illuminated the room, making it fall to the floor and break. Sam gasps, covering her mouth with her hands, chocking on her tears. Before she can move, he swings the door open with all of his force, making it bang against the wall and storms out. Sam doesn't move or uncover her mouth until she hears the front door slamming shut. She sinks back onto the bed, curling into a ball and crying even harder. The room is cold and lonely without him. It's empty without him – she's empty without him.

"What have I done?" She whispers into the darkness.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Yeah my fellow readers, I ruined Seddie's first time, you can go ahead and hate me! But remember, I have everything planned for this story in my mind. So even if you're raging now, understand that's just part of the plot. Nothing can be too perfect for too long – it's boring! Things can't be perfect all the time, it's unrealistic, and for this fic, it would be unrealistic make this moment so perfect because both of them have issues they needed to work on before that happened. Don't hate Sam because she lied, put yourself in her shoes, with the doctor's appointment coming so close, just around the corner really, she was scared as hell. They really didn't have a lot of time left anyway. And don't hate Freddie because he agreed, he is a man after all and he really wanted that. And don't hate him because he snapped at the end, his mind is not stable, especially when he's stressed._

_Well, I'll be here just waiting for the threats and hate comments… I'll go now and see some pics of Josh Huctherson and Peeta Mellark to calm myself down before I get all the hate that's coming… *hiding under the bed*_

_**Edited by clarksonfan (fantastic as ever!)**_

* * *

><p><em>Jason Walker – Everybody Lies<em>


	20. Dr John

**Genre**_**:**__ Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

* * *

><p>The sunlight hits my face and I squirm and groan, trying to cover my eyes with the palm of my hands. I move to the side, seeking the comfort of Freddie's arms. I move my body in order to lay my head on the expense of his rock hard chest, so I can feel safe and loved, but instead I find emptiness. Rubbing my face, I stretch lazily, opening my eyes to look for him. His side of the bed is vacant and I wonder where he went and what happened.<p>

My mind is a blur, and even with the sunlight over my skin, I still shiver as if I'm cold. The clock points out ten thirty in the morning and thankfully its Sunday so I don't have to worry about the time. I scratch the back of my neck and then my shoulder, which I realize is covered by a thin cotton material. My legs kick to the side and I sit up, gazing at the mirror of my vanity. The reflection that stares back at me gives me chills. My hair is a mess, going all over the place, my eyes are red, and I have marks under them from lack of sleep. The right side of my face is marked with a few imprints, probably from sleeping over my tangled up hair, and I'm wearing a shirt that is way too big for me.

Suddenly, just like that, it all comes back to me like a blow in the head – what I did and who I hurt. The sound that escapes my mouth is something between a sob and a yell, and I cover my mouth, afraid someone will hear me. I quickly curl into a ball once again and cry, knowing that I'm alone and there's no one here to comfort me. I let everything out as I clenched my fist against my chest, trying to keep my heart where it should be. I should've known lying wasn't the best option, I should've known the damage I was going to cause…I should've known better.

Now I'm crying alone in my room because I have no one here to tell me everything is going to be okay, because it's a lie. It won't. It won't be okay, not even mildly okay, and it's all my fault. And I deserve it. I reach out to clutch tightly to Freddie's pillow, trying to keep something of him close to me. Sometime during the night I must've collected the shirt he left behind off the floor and put it on. I fucked everything up, I did the only thing he begged me not to do – I lied about whether I was ready or not.

But he has to understand I didn't have a choice. I was so scared something was going to happen to us – to him – that I freaked out. I know I should've talked to him about it because I know I can tell him anything, and still I chose to lie. That was my biggest mistake. How did I ever think I could fool him like that? I should've known better.

After I'm done crying for the moment, I get up from the bed noticing, for the first time, that my - _our _bedroom is a mess. The lamp that Freddie broke in his rage attack still lies on the floor in pieces, just like I am right now. I don't want to touch it, I don't want to clean it, but I think I'll have to. I don't want him to come home and find this mess. I wonder where he went and if he is already back. My chest tightens because I don't know his whereabouts, and I can't help the cries that rip out of me, praying to myself for him to be safe. Everything I did last night was to try and protect him, and still I managed to mess that up like I do with everything else. I hate myself for being such a screw up.

I turn around and collect an abandoned pillow off the floor, throwing it carelessly on the bed. My eyes catch a glimpse of something on the white sheets, and slowly, I push aside the pillow I just collected from the floor. There's a small stain of blood standing out on the sheet, and I cringe, knowing what it means. The pain that shot through my being last night left proof behind. I can still feel him inside of me like the ghost of a limb, stretching me open, and I know it is only my imagination, so I force myself to calm down. Panic was the thing that made me screw up what should have been the most perfect night of my life. I cannot afford to let it take over me again.

I wipe the tears off my face, trying to pull myself together as I bend to collect the pieces of the broken lamp. I pick up the pieces off the floor, wishing I could crush it between my fingers and bleed to death. There's a creek downstairs, the sound of our wooden door opening, and I'm startled, involuntarily clenching my fingers shut. The glass from the lamp cuts through my skin and I yelp in pain, opening my knuckles and letting a few drops of blood fall on the floor. The door shuts close, and my heart thumps in my chest. I get up and close my hands to contain the bleeding as I run downstairs.

"Freddie? Freddie, is that you? Have you returned?" I call frantically for my husband.

Before I reach the bottom of the stairs, my smile dies as I realize that the person standing there is not Freddie.

"Brad? What are you doing here?" I question.

"What did you do to him?" His voice is harsh and accusatory.

"Where is he?" I demand.

"I asked you a question, Sam." His voice is firm and cold, and for one second, I'm scared. Only for one second. "What did you do to him?"

"Let me see him. I wanna see him. I wanna talk to him…I need to explain. Tell me where he is!"

"I asked you a question, damn it!" He yells, punching the wall beside him.

My body cringes, and the silence left in the room is torturous. I want to scream and cry and beat him up all at once. I want to punch Freddie's location right out of his mouth.

"That is none of your business." I whisper. "It is between me and Freddie…now tell me where he is."

My words stir something in him. I can see it in his eyes, and when he takes a step forward, I take a step back. But it's useless because his arms reach for me before I can move away, and he grabs me by my shoulders, shaking me aggressively.

"It is my business! He's my best friend, my family! Before you even dreamed of meeting him, he was already the closest thing to family I ever had, so answer my damn question now!"

My eyes are wide, and I can't say a word. I've never seen him nervous before, not even with that woman, Celina. I remember the night Freddie had a nervous breakdown outside in the backyard. I take it that that must happen a lot with them because of the war and everything. But that doesn't give him the excuse to just grab me and shake me like that. I know I screwed up, I know what I did, and still, it's not his business to punish me. I push him away with all the strength I can muster, making him stumble backwards.

"Don't you touch me!" I growl defensively.

Brad runs a hand over his face and hair, trying to breath in a steady pace. He sighs and takes a step forward. I raise my hand up, telling him to stay where he is and don't come close. He raises both his hands, like he did with Celina, telling me he won't make any sudden move.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have touched you like that. It was wrong and inappropriate, so I ask you to forgive me. It's just…I'm so nervous…I don't deal with stress very well."

"It's alright…" I sigh, but my body is tense, like it's waiting for him to make a move at any moment. "Where is Freddie?"

"He came to my house in the middle of the night…he was so messed up…I tried to calm him, to help him, but nothing worked. This time was different, something was different about him…it was like I didn't even know him at all. It was like the Freddie I knew was gone…"

He chokes on his words, and I bite hard on my lip, trying not to cry. It's my fault…there's no one to blame but me.

"Let me get dressed and I'll go to your house…I need to see him."

"You don't understand…" he starts, "I couldn't help him this time, Sam. I couldn't control him."

I start to panic, my chest rising and falling rapidly as my breath comes out uneven.

"What do you mean?"

"I have the feeling he's been out of his medicine for a while now. He's not supposed to stop the treatment yet. He suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder that includes hallucinations, depression, stress…he can't be without his medicine. But lately, since you showed up, he was getting better, he was lightening up a little bit, so I guess he thought he didn't need the pills, but he does. You have to tell me what happened last night that triggered him back to the mess he was after the war. You have no idea how serious this situation is."

This time I can't help it, I can't hold it back. I cry and let the tears engulf me. He's been through so much, and I only added gasoline to the fire. Brad cautiously comes close to me, putting his hand on my shoulder, which shakes while I sob.

"Whatever it is Sam, it means nothing right now. It's okay if you don't want to tell me, but you'll have to tell his doctor."

"Doctor?" I pull away like he was on fire.

"Like I told you…I couldn't get through to him this time, so I had to call his doctor. They…they took him last night…"

"Where, Brad?" It's my turn to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. My bloody hand leaves stains in his white shirt. "Where the hell did you let those bastards take him to?"

"Calm down, Sam…"

"No! Tell me what you did do to him!" I yell, punching him on the chest over and over again.

He grabs me by the wrists, but I don't stop fighting.

"He's at the hospital…psychiatric ward."

"What? You let them put him into a nuthouse?" I push him.

"No! He uh…he was pretty bad…I couldn't do anything…he needed help!"

"You gave him to them? Oh my God! No…"

I sunk to the ground, hugging my legs to my chest, sobbing grossly. I can't believe that after everything I did to keep him safe, Brad willingly gave him to the wolves. What if they do something to him? What if they hurt him? I can't save him now…but I have to…I have to.

Brad comes closer to me, putting his hand on my shoulder, but I don't want him to touch me, so I push him away. I lift my head up slowly, glaring at him through my tears.

"If something happens to him…I'm going to kill you." I use the most menacing voice I can muster in my fragile state.

"N-Nothing is going to happen to him…" he stutters.

"Take me to see him. I want to see him."

"Alright…you should…look presentable, and wrap up that cut on your hand. I'll be down here waiting for you."

I nod and climb upstairs quickly. Once I've reached the top of the stairs, I look down at him over my shoulder. He's sitting where I was just a couple of seconds ago, elbows on his knees, face in hands. His shoulders shake and I know he's crying. Fear consumes me when I think that if Brad is worried about what they would do to him, it's because he is in real danger. I force myself to be strong and make a beeline to the bathroom. I need to be strong and fix what I did.

* * *

><p>The drive is silent. Neither Brad or I have anything else to say to each other, and even if we did, there would be no point. Not right now. I feel my insides aching with fear. My failed attempt to keep Freddie safe only made things worse for him, and us. I can't help but wonder what the repercussions will be, what Visualize might do to us. After the scandal with Celina, I'm pretty they will be wary with other couples, so that won't happen again.<p>

Brad parks in front of the hospital and I climb out of his car, slamming the door shut. I don't wait for him to make my way inside, but I know he's following right behind me. I stop by the reception and wait for Brad to catch up with me. Since I've been practically running, he stayed behind. He goes straight to the receptionist and shows her his Visualize ID.

"I'm here to see Fredward Benson." He announces.

"Mr. Benson cannot receive visitors right now." She informs us.

I bang my good hand against the counter and she jumps. No one is going to keep me from seeing Freddie right now.

"You let me see him right now! You let me see him now!"

"Sam…"

Brad grabs me by the shoulders, pulling me away from the counter where the woman glares at me.

"Ma'am, if you don't settle down I'll be forced the call security."

"No, please…" Brad says, "she's his wife…she's just worried. Listen, I'm authorized to visit Mr. Benson at all hours, and I'm taking his wife with me. So unless you want to call your superior so we can have a little chit-chat, I suggest you do your job and tell me which room he's in."

She sends a death glare in his direction, but looks at the files anyway.

"Room 351, third floor, down the hall."

I take off without waiting for Brad. I climb the stairs like a freak, rushing until I'm out breath, but I don't stop, I can't stop. I burst inside the psychiatric ward with Brad right behind me, showing his credentials to anyone that tries to stop us. When we reach our destination, a man in a white coat comes out of Freddie's room and stops us from coming in, and this time, Brad's credentials don't have the desired effect.

"Hi, I'm Doctor John. I'm sorry, but you can't come in. Freddie needs his rest."

"I need to see him. Please…I'm his wife…I need…I need to know if he's okay." I beg.

"Mrs. Benson, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you cannot see him right now. He's asleep."

"I won't wake him up!" I don't care if I sound desperate because I am in fact, desperate. "I just need to look at him."

"Okay…" he sighs, "you can see him through the glass, but you cannot walk into the room."

"That's good enough!" I rush to say.

"Follow me."

The doctor opens a door next to the one to Freddie's room and I'm glad Brad is there so I don't have to walk in alone. Through the glass I can see my Freddie, lying unconscious in a bed. I can't help but feel like I was the one who put him there – maybe because I really am the person who put him there. No longer fighting it, I let the tears slip out of my eyes as I press my palm against the glass, trying to reach out to him, to touch him. I just want to touch him.

"He can't stay off his med's." Dr. John informs me.

"I'll make sure he takes them." My voice is shaken, weak – sad. "When can I take him home?"

"Not at this time, Mrs. Benson. Freddie needs to stay in observation. The next forty-eight hours are crucial for him, so I need to keep a close eye on him. I need to make sure that my decision to release him from the hospital the first time wasn't hasty. Now you need to tell me what happened so I can know how to treat him."

"I…uh…"

I look at Brad, who realizes I don't want to do this in front of him, so he nods his head and squeezes my shoulder.

"I'll be right out here if you need anything."

"Okay." I nod and he leaves.

After he closes the door, I sigh and look warily at Dr. John, who tells me to sit in the chair next to me. The man is probably around fifty-years-old and unlike the other Visualize employees I saw, he doesn't look menacing in any way. It's exactly the opposite, actually. He looks soothing and exudes confidence. For a moment I'm glad he's the one taking care of Freddie.

"Now Sam…tell me what happened."

"We had sex last night…but I…I wasn't ready and…"

"He try anything…?"

He looks at me strangely, like he knows Freddie wouldn't do that, and yet he looks worried that he might be wrong.

"No. He asked me since the beginning to not lie to him about that…and I did…I did just that. I lied. I told him I was ready when I wasn't, but he found out and…got really mad. Then he just left."

By the end of my speech I was crying, and I know I must look gross, but I don't care.

"Sam…Freddie has a very delicate relationship with intimacy. He's been through a lot and he saw a lot, but he can never get over what he did. He's been carrying so much on his shoulders, and you just gave him something more to carry…"

I look down at my hands shamefully and he sighs.

"What made you lie to him?"

"I was scared…something bad was going to happen because we hadn't…yet."

"I can understand that. You were worried about your safety…"

"Not just mine." I interrupt him. "Freddie's too. I love him, I don't want anything bad to happen to him…I don't want anyone or anything to keep us apart…"

"I'm not going to report this to Visualize, but surely someone in the hospital already did…" he starts to whisper, "here's what we're going to do…I'm going to tell them Freddie had a breakdown because he stopped taking his medicine, and you're going to keep what happened last night to yourself. Do not tell anyone…you never know who might be listening." He says, looking around.

"Okay." I say slowly.

"When I release Freddie, you're going to take him straight home and take a license to take care of him for three days straight. He needs to be supervised this first week. Make sure he takes his medicine and don't talk about what happened. Don't push the subject."

"What if he tries to speak about it?"

"He won't. Freddie is not good at dealing with confrontation anymore, and he will avoid the subject at any cost, and if you push him to speak of it, it might make him ill again. When he's better, when he's ready, he'll talk about it, and you must be honest with him. You must be very patient. Don't lie again. Sam, I need you to understand what they can do to Freddie if he keeps showing up here in the psychiatric ward. This is the second time he's been here…if there's a third time…they might want to lock him away and you are going to be left to…to replace-to remarry."

I cringe, digging my nails into my thighs. I can't imagine being without him, being with someone else. I'd rather die than be remarried.

"Please…I can't be without him…" I beg.

"Then let's work together to keep him safe. Do you understand that?"

"Yes…I'd do anything to keep him safe."

"Good…now you should go home, Sam, probably eat something…"

"There's no way I'm leaving him, Doctor. I'm staying."

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to be in there with Freddie right now."

"I'll just stay here or outside, but I won't go anywhere."

"Okay, you can stay outside in the reception area then." He tells me before standing up to leave.

I feel the need to thank Dr. John for everything he's doing, and even if I don't trust the kindness of strangers, I feel like I can trust him. There's just something I learned from my relationship with Freddie, that maybe not everyone is bad. Some people just do things without asking for anything in return. I take one good, and last, look at Freddie before I follow the doctor out the door. I'll do anything to fix this mess I made. I would do anything for him.

* * *

><p>Brad goes home to check on Carly, but returns a short while later. He doesn't want to leave the hospital either. I can't shake the feeling that he's waiting for something to happen, like he knows something I don't – and he probably does. We don't talk much – or any – and he doesn't ask me anything anymore. I figured he'd rather talk to Freddie about what happened or not talk about it at all.<p>

There isn't a second I don't scold myself for what happened last night. I keep thinking about ways I could've made the night better. My mind keeps constructing many scenarios where I would either tell Freddie the truth before he entered me or I would tell him everything before making a move, and we would talk about it, finding a solution to our problem – together, like real couples do. But there's no use now. I should have thought about this beforehand, but I've always been impulsive, so it was only natural I would do something stupid. I'm stupid, and from the looks of it, I won't be getting smarter any time soon.

The need to talk to somebody, anybody, about what happened last night consumes me, but I know I can't. I've caused too many problems already and with my stupidity, maybe I should just play it by the book now. But wasn't that what I was trying to do last night? Be a good wife? Play by the book? Sure, by Visualize's book, but that doesn't matter anymore. What I should've done was talk to Freddie about it, share my concerns with him, and we would have looked for a solution together. What good does it make though, knowing that only now?

"I need to see him." I tell Brad.

"I wish we could, but you heard the doctor. The first forty-eight hours are crucial. Maybe we should give him some space."

"Not even through the glass? I just wanna look at him, otherwise I won't believe he's okay." I fight the tears, telling myself I need to be strong now for Freddie.

"I'll see what I can do."

Brad gets up at the same time Dr. John arrives, with a man following right behind him. He motions for Brad to sit down when he walks right into Freddie's room. Something in his eyes makes me wary. The man following him offers me a smug smile before he walks in, and that's when it hits me…I know him…I've seen him before.

"Frank Ellis!" I gasp out when the door closes, covering my mouth right after.

"You know Ellis?" Brad asks me.

"Yes…no…well, he came by the house to check on me and Freddie."

"Oh no…" Brad whispers.

"What? Is it bad? Why is he here Brad?" I try to whisper, but my voice comes out in a shaken sob.

"He's here to…check on Freddie."

"What does that mean?" I tug on the sleeve of his jacket. "What does that mean?" I say louder this time.

"He's here to make sure that Freddie is mentally unstable."

"But he's not!"

"I don't know about that, Sam."

"He's not! He was just upset!"

"Sam…you need to calm down now or else the next one behind that glass will be you!" He harshly whispers to me, looking around and I turn to see that people are starting to stare.

I force myself to breath, my eyes never leaving Freddie's door. If someone, anyone, tries to come out of there carrying him, I will kill them. No one is going to lock him up in a nuthouse. He can't go there and leave me alone…again, the thought that I'd rather die than be remarried flitters across my mind. Several minutes of pure angst passes by before the door opens again. I see Dr. John and Mr. Ellis coming out, and before Brad can hold me down by my arm I launch my body forward and walk towards them.

"How is he?" I ask in a rushed tone.

"He's okay, Mrs. Benson." Dr. John gives me a soft look.

"When can we take him home?" Brad asks.

"That's not going to happen for a while." Mr. Ellis says, and his tone scares me.

"Dr. John…" a young nurse comes up to us, but I don't take my eyes off Mr. Ellis. "We need you in room 439."

"Of course…" he nods, then looks at me.

He doesn't speak, but I understand what he's trying to say. _Stay calm, everything will be alright. _He leaves shortly after, and I immediately wish he hadn't. My eyes dart between Freddie's door and Mr. Ellis. I don't like the look he's giving me.

"Now Mrs. Benson, I have to confess I didn't expect this…seeing Mr. Benson here again after being married to such a lovely young woman."

"Freddie is just going through some problems, he'll be okay soon and then I'll take him home." I tell him.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that…"

"Cut the crap, Frank," Brad says, and it surprises me because he's always so polite, "tell me what's next."

"Oh young Bradley…" he smirks, and when he does that, he looks like the personification of death, "you know the procedure."

"What's the procedure, Brad?"

"I'm going to keep a close eye on Mr. Benson now, to make sure he's mentally stable. In case he's not, I'll be selecting the facility where he'll receive his treatment…and I shall redirect you, Mrs. Benson, to a new home."

He brings up one of his hands to toy with one of my curls, and it makes my stomach turn.

"I'll be sure to place you in a proper environment, with a proper mate for you…you know, I haven't even married yet, maybe I can arrange to-"

Before he can finish, Brad pulls me away and steps in front of me, like Freddie used to do. No. Like Freddie _does_.

"After everything that has already happened, do you really need another controversy?" He asks bitterly. "Think about what people will start to think if every marriage starts to fail. They'll lose faith in Visualize…and you know what happens when people lose faith, don't you? They'll start to question everything, they'll start to wonder about things they're too blind to see right now... you know that that's never good. Does the government really need all of that?"

I've never once seen Brad act like this. His body is tense, but the words that come out of his mouth are smooth, yet fierce. The change in Ellis' eyes is obvious. He knows that what Brad said makes sense and he sure doesn't need the trouble right now. His eye twitched the whole conversation, especially when Brad mentioned something about people losing faith. Regardless of what I believed about Visualize before, I now realize that what they rely on the most is not power, but faith. What gives them control is the faith people have in them, and without that they would be nothing but another failed experiment.

"I'm just trying to make sure we didn't make another mistake in our matching of couples, Bradley."

"Don't worry, you didn't. I love my husband, there's no better match for me than him."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes. I'd rather die than be with someone else, anyone else."

"In that case, let's all work together to make sure Mr. Benson goes home soon." He gives us a fake smile. "Evening ma'am…Bradley."

"Before you go…"

Brad moves a little too close to Ellis, and I swear I saw him flinching. Once he's close enough, Brad starts to whisper, loud enough for me to hear.

"You touch my friend's wife again, and I'll report you to your superior. You know you can't do that."

His voice is harsh enough so that Ellis knows he means business.

"Of course." And with a fake smile, he leaves.

Once he's gone, I begin to realize that my body is shaking; my legs can barely hold me up. Brad seems to notice this too and he grabs me by the arm, steadying me.

"Here Sam…sit."

He helps me sit down and I try my hardest not to sob. Brad doesn't seem to know what to do with me, so he pats my shoulder awkwardly. If I wasn't so scared I might have laughed.

"Sam…don't worry, everything will be okay. We'll bring Freddie back home in no time, you'll see."

"How do you know that for sure? I can't, Brad…if something happens to him…I can't be without him…I swear I meant what I said before. I'd rather die than be without him."

"Hey, look, don't say that. Listen, let's just work together to bring him home, okay?"

"What if we can't?"

"I'll make sure we do…I'll make sure he's safe, no matter what I have to do."

I look him straight in the eye, and now I_ know_ he's deadly serious.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I know I know, some of you hate me because it's been ages, and I'm sorry. I was a little sick, with this thing called "dengue" (it's from a mosquito bite) and I was psyched about The Hunger Games, so I'm sorry I couldn't update sooner. Now that I'm a little better, and that I saw the movie (OMG OMG OMG) I'm updating. I'm so frigging happy, because Josh Hutcherson was just the perfect Peeta! Loved the movie so much... oh Peeta... Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. I'll try to work on the next this tomorrow if I can! Oh and did you guys see iCarly? SEDDIE BABIES! OMG they're going to procreate!_

_**edited by clarksonfan (SEDDIE BABIES!)**_

* * *

><p><em>Mika - Dr. John<em>


	21. Straightjacket Feeling

**Genre**_**:**__ Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

* * *

><p>There is an ache in my neck that never seems to go away. The tension in my shoulders make the muscles tight, only increasing the pain I feel. Rubbing usually only makes everything worse, but I can't help myself, I just do it. There were times pain was the only thing that kept me sane – kept me grounded – and I used to abuse my own body, just so I was able to feel something, anything.<p>

I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, in a dark room, and I try and lift my hand to rub my neck – I wanna feel pain, otherwise I just feel numb. My hands are strapped with white tubes. They lose themselves inside of my veins. I can see a green substance, like liquid fire burning my insides, but I don't want it to stop. It feels agonizing, like something is eating me up inside, and my toes hurt, like they're being broken again, but I don't ever want that to stop.

It all smells like this anti-bacterial soap my mother used to buy me. It's clean and it stinks. My heavy lids threaten to close, but I don't feel tired. One of my eyes wants to fall asleep, but the other is wide awake. My feet are bare, and the floor is wet, covered in some thick, hot liquid, like fresh blood. A droplet falls on my hand, and it smells like a dead fish. I bring my palm to my mouth and lick it off. It's definitely blood. I've tasted blood many times before, I would've recognized it even if it was masked with sugar.

They keep falling, like rain pouring down on me, and I just lift my head and open my mouth to taste it. The flavor is raw and hot as it burns my tongue. It starts to melt my face, but I don't feel a thing. I'm just numb.

I can see it better now, my white room, the walls tainted with blood that falls from the sky. My hands start to melt like butter on a pan, and the floor is on fire, engulfing my legs, destroying every part of me that's still intact.

The smell of my burning flesh is a reminder that I'm still here. I'm only slowly starting to fade away. I'm turning into ashes – I'm starting to disappear – and it's so beautiful that I can't stop looking at it. It's mesmerizing. I'm burning, but somehow I'm still alive. I'm melting, but I'm not dead yet. It should hurt, but it only feels good, good enough to kill me, but it doesn't. I'm on fire, and I'm alive, and it doesn't hurt me – I'm just invincible. I'm unbreakable.

The door is open, and a light comes into the room, shimmering over me. It illuminates all that I am, and brings a sense of peace I haven't felt in a long time. Maybe now I'm dying, only, I feel more alive now than I ever had before. In the middle of the burning room, with blood and ashes, she walks in, wearing a clean white dress. Her feet are bare, but they're covered in blood like my own, and her hair shines like a golden halo.

I stretch out my arm to touch her. I wanna reach out and feel the warmth that seems to radiate off her, but my hands are tied. A red droplet of blood falls over her chest as she comes closer to me, smiling like an angel. And then suddenly her whole dress is red, and her eyes aren't blue anymore. They are big and black and they frighten me. She reaches for me with one of her arms, and I just want her to touch me.

I want to feel the softness of her, I want to be close and let her hold me, take care of me. She shimmers and I want some of her light, I need some of it. She puts her hand on my chest, over my heart, then her nails cut through my skin. The pain is excruciating now that her whole hand is inside of me. The sting and the pain are real, like nothing I've ever felt before. It's not good – it doesn't make me feel alive. Her hand is out of my chest now, and she holds my heart in her hand. I watch her smile as I fall backwards. Now I'm hurting. It doesn't feel good. I'm dying. I'm dead.

She killed me.

* * *

><p>The room is white, and doesn't have blood coming out of the walls, but still smells like anti-bacterial soap. The environment is way too familiar. I've been here before, I know this place. The throbbing pain in my neck is real as well as the tension that tightened up my muscles. My mouth is dry. I need water. My mind still acknowledges a few needs my body aches for, like water, a cold and relaxing bath, and a back massage.<p>

Lola used to give the best back massages, but I can't have that now, can I? My arms are wrapped up in medical tubes, but there's no green liquid coming out of them. I sit up and try to reach out to the back of my head so I can rub my neck. I need something that's going to help me feel alive again. I need to feel some sort of pain to keep me sane. It's always been like that whenever I lose myself. I need the pain to come back to life.

Pain is what I've been used to, and I was a fool to believe that was going to change anytime soon. I put my guard down, and now I've paid for that. _Everyone is the enemy. Sleep with one eye open. Never let your guard down. _I forgot the three most important things my captain taught me, and I've learned my lesson. Once you're in a battlefield, you never leave, and no matter how hard I try, I'll never be able to get out of there.

Maybe I should just stop. I should stop believing things were going to improve for me. I should stop wanting things that I can never have. Happiness is not in the cards for me. I don't deserve it. That was never the plan, it was never for me, and I was an idiot to even want it. I don't have the right to expect nice things – I don't have the right to wish for something I'll never have. After everything I've said and done, I was a fool to think life was going to reward me with peace and love.

_Love._

What a foolish thing that is. When in my life had I known such a feeling? And why the hell had I thought that after everything I've done that I deserved it? My mind has been tainted with this idiotic feeling, and I forgot what's really important. I feel like I'm back to square one, where I had to remember to take my meds, eat, and comb my hair. I can already see Brad holding a list of things I have to do every day. One step at a time:

1) Wake up and brush your teeth.

2) Take a shower and comb your hair.

3) Find something clean to wear (no pajamas).

4) Eat your breakfast.

5) Take the green pill.

6) Do something productive to entertain yourself.

7) Have lunch

8) Take the blue pill.

9) Wash the dishes.

10) Read a book.

11) Do the laundry.

12) Eat your supper.

13) Take the white pill.

14) Take a shower.

15) Go to sleep.

I memorized that list. There was a time when I didn't even need to remind myself to do those things, I would just get up and do it – I was getting better. Partially it's my fault. If I wasn't so damn foolish to think I didn't need my medicine, I wouldn't be out of control. I need to be prepared for the worse, always keep my guard up, always wait for the enemy to attack. The pills are most likely going to stay with me for the rest of my life – I can never stop taking them. And I need to stop thinking that things are going to get better. They won't. One day I might be slightly okay, but never better, never cured.

Most importantly, I need to accept that my mind is no longer mine. I need the pills to keep it in check – otherwise I'll lose it for good. I need to stop trying to make improvements, and just get on with the plan. The list is what I need and if I follow it for the rest of my life, I might be okay. I try to remember where I put it. Did I throw it in the trash? Maybe I should just write a new one. One step at a time. I need paper and a pen.

"Hey Freddie. Good to see you awake. How are you feeling today?"

Dr. John comes into the room wearing his usual kind smile, and I hate him for that. He reminds me too much of my father and it hurts to look at him, but at the same time, I feel safe. We already established how much I need pain to stay sane.

"My neck hurts."

"Well, I'll see if one of the nurses can do something about that."

He pulls one of the chairs to sit close to me, his usual notebook in hand, and a silver pen in the other.

"Can I have a piece of paper and a pen?" I ask.

"Why do you need that, Freddie?"

"I want to write something."

"And what is that?"

"A list."

"A list? What is this list for?"

"A few things I have to remember."

"Well, wouldn't it be easier if you told me. I could write it down for you."

"It's the list you gave to Brad when I got out of the hospital. I want to remember what I'm supposed to do."

"Oh, that list…well, I guess I can hand it to you once you're good to go. How does that sound?"

Before I can answer, a nurse opens the door. She carries two small, very familiar cups with her. She hands them to me once she's close enough, and I can see her tag – it says Lisa. She's probably somewhere around fifty or sixty, has grey hair and wrinkles under her eyes. My aunt's name was Lisa. She's dead. A Chinese soldier killed her.

"Here you go, Mr. Benson."

Usually I prefer to take the pill without the water – the taste is raw and real – but I'm just so thirsty. She takes them back and closes the door behind her. I wish I could keep the cups. I like to draw faces on them.

"You can't stop taking your medicine, Freddie. I thought we talked about that."

"We did. I just thought…I thought I was getting better. But I know now I was wrong…and I won't stop taking them again."

"Okay, I'll trust you on this. So, how did you sleep?"

"I had a weird dream."

"Wanna tell me about it?"

I really don't, but I learned a long time ago that talking can actually help, so I do it. I've been sharing most of my nightmares with Dr. John for quite some time now, and there's no point keeping this from him.

"I was sitting in my bed. There was blood on the walls, and on the floor. It was raining blood and I was on fire, but I was alive…until…until she came into the room and tore my heart out."

"Who came into the room, Freddie?"

"Sam…Sam came into the room and killed me."

"Can this have anything to do with what happened last night?"

"I don't want to talk about that."

"Okay, we won't." He nodded, putting his notebook down. "What do you feel comfortable talking about?"

"Do I have to take the green pills again? They make me moody."

"Just for a while, like the first time, remember? Then we'll switch those for the red ones."

"Okay."

"Do you feel comfortable enough to see someone?"

"Who?" I look at my hands, finding my fingers very interesting. "Is Sam here?"

"Yes, in fact she hasn't left the hospital yet. Do you want to see her?"

I don't want to see her. I don't want to hear what she has to say. She's a liar. What's the point of seeing her if she's only going to lie to me again? As much as I try to think about her otherwise, I can't. But what really bothers me is the fact that I don't want her to see me this way. I'm ashamed of myself and I don't want her to think I'm insane. I shouldn't be concerned about what she thinks, but I do, and that makes me angry. I can't be angry right now.

"No. I don't want to see her."

"Bradley is outside as well. Would you like to see him?"

"No…I don't want to see anybody right now. Is that okay?"

"It is, Freddie. Well, I guess I'll just go now and let you rest for the day. Anything I can get you?"

"A piece of paper and a pencil would do."

"Okay, I'll arrange for that. Just promise me you'll only use the pencil for drawing." He chuckles.

We have this thing, this nutcase inside joke. It always helps improve my mood.

"I promise. No stabbing, no suicide, just drawing." I smirk.

"Alright. Keep it on the paper then."

He hands me a pencil he took from his pocket and a piece of paper from his notebook.

"See you later, Freddie."

"See you later, Doctor."

I sink back onto the bed and put the paper aside. I don't feel like using it anymore. Suddenly my body is tired, even though I must've been sleeping for hours on end. I sink back into the covers and my eyes slowly close. I began to feel the sadness crawling its way inside of me and for the first time I let myself accept that I've been hurt. I'm broken hearted.

* * *

><p>It's time to eat, but I don't feel hunger. The nurse brings me the all too familiar hospital food. Call me crazy, but I actually like it, it tastes like…like my mother's food. My father being a doctor and my mother being a nurse, you would expect them to be at least a little careful with what I ate, and they were. But it got a lot worse after my father died. My mother kind of…lost it. Always worrying about bacteria, feeding me with vegan food with no salt, giving me tick baths…it wasn't cool.<p>

I devour the food in less than a minute. It goes down my throat dryly, tasting like nothing, and once I'm done I just want to drink water. A lot of water. The blue pill always makes me so thirsty. I drink four cups of water and resume lying in bed, looking at the tree outside of my window. The leaves are dark brown with some orange in them. I guess it must be fall or something. I hate fall, but then again, there's not a lot of things I like these days.

I liked Sam, and look what that got me.

My body is limp after a while, and I don't feel like moving. I haven't yet used the paper, and I wonder if I will – I can't remember why I asked for it in the first place.

"Mr. Benson?" Lisa calls from the door.

"Yes?"

"Do you wish to see someone now?"

I think about it for a second. Brad must be freaking out in the hall, and I'm not doing anything anyway. Maybe I should see him. Yeah, I wanna see him…but not her. I don't want to deal with her yet.

"Can you bring Brad in here?"

"Of course." She nods and closes the door behind her.

I know he's going to ask, but I don't want to answer, I don't want to tell him what happened. I don't want to talk about it, or think about. I feel like a pussy for acting this way. I should take it like a man, not end up in the hospital like a coward. On the other hand, I don't want to see Brad anymore. I don't want him to think I'm a coward. Too late, though. He's already inside of the room before I can call the nurse back in.

"Hey man…how are you doing?"

He's being careful. He's walking on eggshells, like the first time I was in the hospital. This one time I snapped and told him to stop talking to me as if I was crazy – well, I was crazy. I shouldn't be complaining.

"I'm fine. How are you?" I shift on the bed, trying to make myself comfortable.

"I'm good. You scared the hell out of me." He says, sitting in a chair next to my bed.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I didn't mean to bring you trouble."

"Hey…we're family okay? We take care of each other, that's what we do, and besides, how many times have you taken care of me?"

"I lost count." I smile.

"Exactly. Now, Freddie…I was told you have a terrible pain on your neck…want a massage?" He smirks, wiggling his fingers.

"No, but thank you, lover." I chuckle. "I guess I'll just wait for the nurse."

"She's cute." He jokes.

"Yeah…she reminds me of your grandma." I smirk.

"Ha ha. Not funny."

He stops talking for a while, looking down at his hands. I know what is going through his mind, I know what he wants to ask, but I don't want to answer it.

"If I ask what happened last night, would you tell me?"

"No. Not yet."

"You can talk to me, you know…about anything."

"I know. It's not you…I just don't want to talk about it. Yet."

"Okay."

Another awkward moment of silence passes by.

"Do you want to see Sam? She's worried sick, you know. She almost stabbed me when I told her you were here. Whatever happened between you two last night, she's sorry. I know she is."

"I don't want to talk about her, Brad. And don't let her fool you – she's a better liar than you think."

There's anger and bitterness masked with hurt in my words. I can tell he noticed it.

"Look, I know you're mad. I don't know why, but I know you're mad. Just…don't sink back to that place you were before…with all that hatred and bitterness inside of you. Please?"

"I'll try. No guarantees, though." I shrug.

"I have to warn you about something. It's probably not the best time to talk about it, but I feel that you should be prepared for when the time comes…"

"What? What do I have to be prepared for?"

"Frank Ellis was here today."

"Why the he-oh…"

I realize where this is going. I shiver a little, not wanting to hear what he wants with me.

"He's going to make sure you're not insane. If he thinks you're crazy…he's going to lock you up in a nuthouse…and Sam…she's going to be remarried."

A sharp pang cuts through my chest. Even if I don't want to admit it, I'm afraid…afraid of what's going to happen to her, afraid someone will hurt her, afraid to be without her – because being with her will hurt, but being without her might actually kill me. Even after what happened, I don't want to lose her. I can't. I won't.

I lean forward and grab him by the collar of his shirt.

"You can't let that happen, Brad. You can't let them do this…you have to protect her."

"I'll try Freddie, I'll do the best I can, but you're the only one who can stop this from happening."

"What do I have to do?" I release him and lay back onto the bed.

"Not be crazy? Or at least act like you're not." He teases me, but I don't feel like joking right now. "Look, soon you can go home, and I know you're upset, but let her take care of you. Try to solve your problems, not keep them in. It's bad for you. Take your meds, and if you feel like freaking out, call me, and I'll be right there."

"I can do that."

I start to toy with my fingers, not meeting his eyes, and he knows exactly what I'm thinking. There's this thing about us where we can read each other's body language, or look at each other's eyes and we know…we just know what the other is thinking or feeling.

"She's outside and she won't leave, you know. She might've lied about whatever, but one thing I know for sure, Freddie, is that she loves you…she does."

"She just doesn't want to be remarried. I happen to be a very good husband, and she knows she has the upper hand with me, which she might not be so lucky to have with her next husband."

"That's not true. I know she loves you. I can tell. You know I can read people very well."

"You lost your edge man, you're getting older." That's my lame attempt at a joke, but neither of us laughs.

"Nah, I don't think so." He shakes his head.

"Maybe she'll get lucky again, and her next husband will be sane."

"Hey, don't say that okay!" He hisses. "She's not going to be remarried. In fact, she said she'd rather die than be without you."

I avoid his eyes at all cost. I want to believe that, I really do, but I don't. I want to believe it, because I know that I can't be without her – I'd rather die as well.

"You want to see her?" He asks carefully.

"No."

"Okay. Is there anything that you need?"

"Music."

"Music…huh…want me to sing to you, love?" He smirks.

"No thanks." I laugh. "Can you bring me my phonograph?"

"I can do that. What do you want to hear?"

"Oasis. I have a record at home, it's rare, but I found it. Can you get me that?"

"Sure. I'll be back real quick."

"You don't have to stay, Brad."

"Nonsense! Your words don't make sense to me, Fredward Benson."

"I mean it. You should go home, your wife needs you, she's pregnant."

"Wendy and Gibby are keeping an eye on her. They want to come and visit you."

"Oh God, please no!" I groan.

"Okay, okay, dude. I'll keep them away." He chuckles. "Sure you don't want that massage?"

"I'm good, thanks."

"Alright, listen. Ellis is supposed to come here tomorrow morning. I'll be here with you during the interview, and Dr. John will supervise it. So take your pills, eat, and behave like a good boy while I go gather your toys, okay?"

"Yes, mother, I can do that."

"Great. Want a kiss goodbye?" He leans in and puckers his lips.

"Dude, control your feelings for me, I'm still not one hundred percent crazy." I push him backwards with a laugh.

"Okay, I can do that. I'll be right back, alright? Chill out and take your meds, crazy boy." He says, standing up.

"Alright mommy, now get out of here and bring me my stuff!" I yell when he's making his way out the door.

Brad leaves, and I feel my mood improving. With a sigh, I lie back and relax. I can almost feel like myself again. That feeling of peace doesn't last long once I remember the risk I put Sam in by going bananas. The angst and anxiety start to crawl back into my chest again. I can't let them take her away from me. I'd rather live in a lie with her for the rest of my life than live without her at all. I'm going to protect her and not let anything happen to her. I'm just not ready to forgive her yet.

* * *

><p>There's this song in my head, from ten years ago when I started to expand my taste for music. I was seven, maybe eight…definitely eight-years-old when I heard it for the first time. My neighbor was around sixteen and he used to wear black clothes and make up. My mother didn't like him, but he was nice. When my parents were working and my nanny was asleep, I used to go over to his place and we would spend the afternoon listening to music – he introduced me to the world of rock n' roll. There was this one song, though, that sometimes plays inside of my head. It goes something like this:<p>

_Hold me now._

_I'm six feet from the edge, and I'm thinking._

_Maybe six feet ain't so far down._

_Please come now, I think I'm falling._

_I'm holding on to all I think is safe._

I wish I knew the rest of the song. I can't remember anymore. I wish I knew what happened to him…_Jimmy_, I wish I knew what happened to Jimmy. The last time I saw him was the day my father went to war – he went too and never came back.

"Freddie?" I didn't realize Dr. John was here.

"Oh…didn't hear you coming in."

"Were you distracted?"

"I was thinking about something."

"Something good?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

"Listen, Mr. Ellis is here for your evaluation."

His voice is serious, and I shudder a little. It's now or never. I have to be good…or at least act like I am. I have to do this right. I nod and Dr. John steps aside and lets Brad and Frank Ellis into the room. I don't like him at all, but I'm not going to let that be a problem. He walks in smiling, and I feel my stomach churning. The bile crawls its way up to my throat, but I can't afford to vomit now.

"Mr. Benson, I must confess I didn't expect to see you here again." He takes the chair next to my bed while the others stand.

"I didn't expect to be here either." I say.

Brad gives me an encouraging smile, and Dr. John nods his head.

"Now, Freddie, want to tell me what happened?" He crosses his legs and starts to scrabble something on his notebook.

"I stopped taking my meds and didn't feel well."

"And why did you do that?"

"I thought I didn't need them anymore."

"Did your doctor tell you that?"

"No."

"Then why did you assume that?"

"Because I was feeling better."

"Oh, Freddie. I know you're a smart boy. If you don't listen to your doctor, how can I trust you'll listen to who really matters?" He asks me, the smile never leaving his face.

"I will!" I start to panic a little, but Brad shakes his head, telling me to relax, so I do it. "I learned my lesson."

"Your doctor tells me that as long as you stay under medication, you're not a threat to yourself or others. But if you don't listen to your doctor, how can I trust you'll keep taking your medication?"

"He's going to be under supervision." Brad answers for me. "I'll be keeping an eye on him, and so will Sam."

"And I will be making sure everything is okay." Dr. John steps in. "We'll meet every week and make sure we're progressing."

"That didn't work the first time." He claims.

"I have new methods." Dr. John says.

"I wasn't paying attention." Brad confesses, looking down at his shoes. "I should have been."

Ellis looks between the three of us, like he's trying to figure something out. After a moment, he smiles that smug smirk of his, and scrabbles something down again. His eyes shift back to me, boring into mine.

"I want to leave you here for a few more days, just so we can make sure you're good to go."

"But I was supposed to go home today." I mumble.

"Freddie, Freddie…" He sighs. "We need to work on this together. We don't want to put you into a psychiatric facility and leave sweet Samantha to be remarried, do we?"

"No!"

"Then let's agree to do what's best for you, huh?"

I look down and nod.

"We're in this together, so let's help each other out."

I hate that he keeps saying _we, _as if he gave a crap about me. He doesn't. We're not together in this.

"Many men would be more than eager to be paired up with such a lovely young woman – we'll have to be careful if we want to keep her, right?"

I clench my jaw, and his smile grows wider.

"She's mine." I say between clenched teeth.

"Then you should take better care of her. That's your job. How are you going to accomplish that by being mentally unstable?"

I take a long, deep breath. I'm trying so hard not to jump on him and do some damage to his face. Control Freddie, control…this is for Sam. You swore to protect her, and you'll do that, even if she doesn't deserve it. You always keep your promises.

"We'll work on it and we won't have any problems." Brad says. "None of us want the trouble right now."

That's definitely Brad's threatening tone, and I see Ellis tightening his grip on his pen. Whatever the hell he was talking about seems to make Ellis a bit fearful and angry. Soon enough, he resumes smiling at me.

"Of course not. It would be a shame to see such a lovely couple end up like this."

"That won't happen." I say.

"Alright, Freddie, that is it for now. Tomorrow I'll be back here so we can have a little chit chat."

He stands up and Brad opens the door, stepping out. Dr. John follows him, and so does Ellis, but he stops and returns. He leans in, and I see Brad clenching his fists. Once he's close enough, he whispers so only I can hear.

"You're lucky to have so many people around you to keep you in check. But let me tell you this: one false step, and I'll catch you."

With that, he leaves. I never really wanted to kill someone so much before in my entire life.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Sorry, I was supposed to update yesterday, I'm sorry. I've been busy, with the baby and the tests coming. But there you go, one more chapter. Sorry for the delay. I'll try to do some writing this week, but I can't promise anything. I'm working on a project and two paper works, so I'm kinda busy, but I'll do my best. I want to answer your reviews as soon as I can, but I don't always remember. Oh, and BTW, I want to thank the people who recommended me songs. "Turning Pages" and "Come Away To The Water". Thank you guys so much, I love those songs!_

_**Edited by clarksonfan ;-)**_

* * *

><p><em>All American Rejects – Straightjacket Feeling.<em>

_In case you're wondering, the name of the song Freddie mentions is "One Last Breath" by Creed. I love them to death!_


	22. All Out Of Love

**Genre**_**:**__ Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OOC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

* * *

><p>He doesn't want to see me, and I can't blame him. I'm getting what I deserve, and it's only fair he wants to avoid me. But I'm dying out here. I watch people walk in and out of his room for days. I watch Brad walk in and step out, but he doesn't tell me what they talk about. And it's extremely excruciating to watch Frank Ellis walk in and out of his room with that smug look on his face.<p>

I had to return to work, even if I didn't want to leave the hospital, but Brad, Carly and I take turns. I have to work, so when Freddie is out, I'll be able to take some time off to take care of him. Toby asked me what happened, but I just tell her Freddie is sick. Sure, she isn't buying it, but fortunately she took the hint and backed off. Dr. John said I can't talk to anyone about this, and of course I won't. I'm not going to ever risk Freddie's safety again.

The days are passing by slowly, and its agonizing always waiting in this hospital hall. Even if he refuses to see me, I won't leave. I'll never leave. My torturous days only get better when Dr. John lets me watch him from behind the glass. At least I get to see him, even if he doesn't know I'm there. Sometimes I think he does, because it seems like he's looking right at me, but if he does, he doesn't say a word.

I want to push the door open and yell at him. I want to tell him that he doesn't have the right to do this, that he is hurting me, that I love him and just want to take care of him. But then I realize I don't have the right to do that – and he doesn't need the drama right now. I keep counting the days until I'll get to take him home to our house – our home. I've been so focused on that that I completely forgot something really important: My doctor's appointment. Today I'm supposed to make my first visit to the gynecologist. If it wasn't for Carly, I would've missed it.

She reminded me during breakfast. She always eats breakfast with me now when I return from the hospital to take a bath and change my clothes. I wish I could stay there at all hours, but I don't want to stink incase Freddie decides he wants to see me. I want to look good for him in the best way I can. Last night I had a dream, a good dream. I dreamed he wanted to see me, and let me hold him and kiss him. I woke up crying, knowing that wasn't true. Not anymore.

Carly helps me find something good to wear to my first appointment. I end up putting on one of my many dresses that is plain and simple blue. She helps me comb my hair, which has been neglected these past couple of days. She takes her time braiding it, carefully untangling the strands. It feels nice – I almost feel like a child again.

"You're going to be fine." She says.

"I'm nervous."

"It can be pretty frightening, but once its over, everything feels better."

I nod, biting down on my bottom lip.

"Brad's at work, so I'll stay with Freddie until you're back."

"Thank you, Carly, for everything. Without you and Brad…I don't know what I would do."

"Hey…"

She spins me around and takes my chin gently in her hand.

"That's what friends do." She tells me.

I smile and get up, taking a deep breath. This is it…the day has come. But I don't have to worry. Freddie has already been inside of me, so technically I'm not a virgin anymore, even if we didn't finish it. It feels too weird to be thinking about that when I have so much regret about that night. I don't regret being with him, that much I'm sure of now. But I regret how I did it and why I did it. If it wasn't for my irrational fear, that night would've been amazing.

From previous experiences, I've learned that I like whatever he does to me. I like it a lot. His hands, his lips, his hips…they burn me from the inside out, and I know that if I hadn't lied that night, we could've worked on something to make us both feel good. He makes me feel good. I love him, I want him, my body aches for him as much my heart does, and all I want now is to be able to be with him for real. I might never have that chance again.

* * *

><p>I wait patiently for my number to be called. It's been more than thirty minutes since I got here, and I'm still waiting. That gave me time to think about a few things, mostly all related to Freddie. I kept thinking about how much I like his eyes. Yes, his deep brown eyes and how much I would love to see them in a baby. A beautiful baby boy or girl. It doesn't matter which. I wanna have his babies, as many as I can – in this case, two.<p>

The family I've been dreaming about may never happen, because I'm an idiot. I just don't want to be taken away from him – I might die if that happens. I don't want to be remarried, especially not to Frank Ellis. The thought of that man putting his hands on me makes me nauseous. I can't imagine a time where I'd ever want another man to touch me like Freddie does. Even if he hates me forever, I just want to be near him.

"_329. 329."_

That's me. I take a deep breath and stand up. The nurse points me to the room where I'm supposed to go, and I walk slowly, almost afraid to make it to the room. My hand reaches for the doorknob, and it shakes. I'm shaking all over. The office is empty, cold and white. I remember last time I went to a gynecologist. It wasn't fun.

"Here, put this on."

The nurse hands me a hospital gown and tells me to undress in the bathroom. I know the procedure, so I just change and lay back on the bed, waiting for the doctor to walk in. My palms are sweating, just like they did last time. I try to think of something happy so I can calm my nerves. I try to remember with vivid details the first time Freddie and I kissed. How I felt and how good it felt. I search inside my mind for the happy moments we shared, and that seems to work. It seems to calm me down.

"Hello, Samantha. I'm Doctor Walsh."

The doctor is a woman, thankfully, and she seems okay. She's tall and skinny with red hair and long legs. Her nails are carefully painted red, and she has a good amount of jewelry on. She can't be older than thirty, maybe even younger.

"Hi."

"Samantha Benson, former Samantha Puckett. Delivered as a virgin to Fredward Benson in May. Is that correct?"

"Yes." I barely whisper.

"Well, let's start, shall we?" She asks, putting on her gloves.

She sits in front of my spread legs and I feel my cheeks burning. Thank God she is a woman, because the only man I ever want to be this close to my lady parts is Freddie. It's awkward to remember that his mouth was there just a few nights ago.

"So. When did you start having intercourse?"

"Four nights ago."

"Really?" She says, leaning closer.

"Yeah…"

I feel uncomfortable with her down there, with her eyes and fingers right there.

"And you've been married for over two months now?"

"Yes."

"Huh, that's unusual." She comments.

I shiver, almost hitting myself for saying that. I should've lied.

"He…uh…my husband wanted me to be ready. To take my time."

"That is sweet – very sweet on his part. I guess that explains no signs of sexual violence. Your hymen is gone, but other than that you're good. No cuts or bruises…he must be very gentle."

She lifts her head up and smiles. I sigh and turn my head to look around the room. I want to tell her he was the gentlest man in the entire world, and that I screwed it up. I try not to cry as she proceeds. I just want a chance to try again. I know next time will be better…that is if he ever wants to be with me again. The exam goes as I expected. She looks up at me, asks me some questions, always smiling, probably trying to calm me down because I'm a wreck.

"Now, Samantha, are you trying for babies already?"

The question strikes me. I want to have them, so much, but only God knows when Freddie will want to touch me again – if he ever will.

"I-I…I don't know. We haven't talked about that yet."

"That's okay, it's probably too early for that anyway. I'm going to prescribe some vitamins to you that will make your body more prepared and fertile. We want to make sure you're healthy enough, right?"

I nod and watch as she scribbles something on her notebook. She tells me to get dressed and hands me a prescription for a medicine. She lists off some food that's good for me and wishes me good luck. Thank God it is over and that in the end it wasn't so bad. The receptionist hands me a piece of paper with the next date I should come in for my next appointment, and I fly out of there, practically running out of the clinic.

* * *

><p><em>Two kids run around the yard. They giggle and wave at me. The little boy chases the little girl, who's older and quite beautiful. Her eyes are the same deep blue as mine, but her hair is dark brown – like Freddie's. She's about five, and God… she's gorgeous, so tiny and lovely. The boy is probably three years old, he looks just like Freddie, all brown hair and chocolate eyes. His dimples are much more noticeable, though.<em>

_The girl stops running and the boy bumps into her leg, falling onto his bottom. He starts to cry, and she kneels down the wipe off his tears, whispering words of comfort. He nods, still grimacing, and accepts the hand she offers to help him stand up. She delivers a tiny kiss on his forehead and he wipes the tear off his cheek, smiling brightly. The girl looks at me and blows me a kiss, whispering something to her brother, who does the same._

_Something startles them, and they run, hiding behind a three. I feel a hot breath on my neck, and a soft pair of lips delivering a few quick kisses behind my ear. Strong arms wrap around me, holding me close in a loving embrace. The feeling is overwhelming, like a ton of bricks being throw at me, crushing me in the best way possible. There's no room to escape from it, but I don't want to._

"_I suppose you haven't seen two lovely kids running around here ma'am, have you?" He whispers in my ear. His voice is low and seductive. I feel compelled to tell him everything he wants to know._

"_No…why do you ask?"_

"_You know…I've been looking around, and the only place left to search is back here." He kisses my ear, taking my earlobe in between his teeth._

_I gasp, feeling my insides melt, so I turn him around, his back to the yard, and press my lips to his._

"_I think you didn't look very well sir, because I didn't see anyone coming out here."_

_I kiss his neck gently, and when he purrs, I make a sign for the kids to run. They giggle softly, muffing their laughs with their hands, and move slowly towards the brick wall. Suddenly, the man in my arms breaks free, and runs out of my gasp. The kids laugh and start to run faster, but he's taller and quicker. He grabs them by the waist and they all go to the floor together. He lies flat on his back while the kids, one in each arm, start to climb on top of him, attacking him with kisses and tight hugs. He uses his fingers to tickle them, and they all laugh, blowing me kisses. I feel so happy, so very happy._

_He stops smiling all of the sudden and gets to his feet, quickly pushing the children behind him. I don't understand what he's doing until a few big men dressed in white come from behind me towards them. I see it all, but I can't move. A familiar voice comes from behind me and I try to turn my head but I can't. I'm frozen. I scream, but nobody seems to listen. The men separate him from the kids, who scream and struggle. He fights them, but they inject something that makes him fall to his knees, and the kids disappear like dust in the wind. My desperation grows when I hear the voice whispering in my ear._

"_Now you're mine Samantha. He can't save you now…you can't save him." He wraps his arms around me and laughs._

* * *

><p>"Sam? Sam!" I hear Brad calling. "Open your eyes! Wake up!"<p>

I gasp, coming back from wherever I was, shaking from head to toe. I try to breath. I'm soaked in sweat and the feeling of desperation is like two giant hands closing around my throat. My eyes travel around the hospital hallway to Freddie's door, back to Brad. He kneels in front of me, with a very concerned Carly by his side. I try to find my voice, but first I need to learn how to breathe again.

"I had a dream…a bad dream…they came and took Freddie and the kids away from me…I…"

"What kids?" Brad asks, visibly confused.

"Brad, honey, why don't you go and get Sam some water? I'll take care of her."

He nods, giving my hands a last reassuring squeeze before he walks away. Carly, whose face looks concerned and sympathetic, sits next to me, rubbing my arms up and down. I lay my head on her shoulder and ball my eyes out.

"What kids you were talking about Sam? The ones you wanna have with him? Are those the kids you referred to?"

"Y-yes…" I stutter.

"Oh Sam, honey…" She soothes me. "You don't have to be afraid. I know it looks bad right now, but everything is going to be okay."

"And what if it doesn't get better? What if they take me away from him and him away from me? I've already given too much of myself to him, I can't be without him anymore, Carly…I just can't. If they tell me I can't be with him I swear I'll-"

"Hey!" She stops me before I can say anything else. "Stop, don't say that. Everything is going to be okay, I know it."

"Why? How? How can you know that for sure?" I snap my head up, and she sighs.

"Because the doctor gave Freddie the okay. He can go home today. That's what we were trying to tell you…that's what we were waking you up for."

My heart races a thousand miles per second. I feel my palms sweating and my body trembling. I can take him home…he won't be taken away from me...I can keep him forever now. Tears start to fall down my cheeks again, but the smile on my face is proof of how happy I feel right now. The love of my life is coming home with me today. To our home. Carly hugs me and lets me cry on her shoulder until I'm too excited to stay quiet; I get up, antsy to see him again.

"So I guess you told her."

Brad comes back with a bottle of water in his hand, which I totally ignore when I hug him fiercely.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome…now, I'd be glad if you didn't kill me…" He huffs.

I let go of him, turning around to hug Carly, a little more gently this time because she's pregnant, but with just enough gratitude. She rubs my back and whispers reassurances in my ear and for the first time I believe her.

"Oh my God…I must look like shit!" I exclaim. "Give me a minute to clean myself."

I yank the water bottle from Brad's hand and drink it in two big gulps. Carly smiles, probably because of my eagerness, and she leans against Brad who has his arms around her and a huge smile of his own. I thrust the bottle back into his hands and run to the bathroom. I wash my face and re-do my makeup, just for the sake of looking presentable for the man I love. He's coming home with me today…he's coming back home!

I can barely contain my eagerness when I return. Dr. John is already outside Freddie's door waiting for me. I see Brad walking in, probably to help Freddie gather his things to leave, and I feel sad because I wanted to be the first person he would see, but that might not be a good idea. Carly gives me a sweet smile as I approach her, and I can't help smile back. I'm just so happy.

"Oh, Sam…" Dr. John smiles at me, and hands me a piece of paper. "That's Freddie's routine list. Make sure he keeps up with that. Here are all his medicines and my phone number. You can call me if you need to. Please, you can call at any time, don't hesitate."

"Okay. Thank you, doctor."

I nod, analyzing the items in my hand. He gave me three bottles of medicine, all different colors, a visit card and a medium sized piece of paper. I put them carefully in my bag. I don't want to lose anything Freddie might need. Dr. John opens the door a little more to make room for Freddie and Brad to walk out, and I fix my hair one last time before he sees me. My smile grows wider, my palms ache for him, I want to touch him, hug him, kiss him. I want to tell him I love him more than anything.

He walks out, dressed in a white cotton shirt, dark jeans, and a khaki jacket I bought for him the day before. He looks skinnier, probably eating too much hospital food, or not enough. He has bags under his eyes, looks tired, but I can see he's relieved to leave the hospital. My heart is thumping so fast, it feels like it's going to cut through my chest. Brad is helping him carry his things and he hasn't seen me yet.

When our eyes meet, I swear to God I go from hot to cold in the same second. For one, it's more than just good to look into his eyes again, but the look he's giving me, tells me he stills doesn't forgive me – he may never forgive me. I hold back my tears, because I want him to see I'm being strong for him, and because it would be embarrassing to cry right now. Even with his stony eyes and cold attitude, I still want to hug him, want to be close to him so bad. I just want it.

"Freddie…" I manage a whisper.

He doesn't say anything, he just walks right by me and towards the exit. Everyone stays still, looking at me, waiting to see what I'm going to do. What is there to do? My husband hates me, and it's all my fault. So, I follow him, biting hard on my bottom lip to keep away the tears. But even though he's not speaking to me, it's still a very happy moment. I get to bring him home and that is all that matters.

* * *

><p>Once the door is closed, it feels like the North Pole in here. Freddie walks in, not even trying to hide his annoyance when I try to help him with his things. He simply dumps them on the couch and walks upstairs. I stay there, at the bottom of the stairs all by myself, feeling stupid. I can hear him moving on the second floor, like he's stomping his feet, and listen to doors opening and closing – he slams them shut on purpose.<p>

This will be hard, harder than I thought, because I was stupid enough to think that the moment he saw me everything was going to be okay again. It obviously won't, and it's my fault. I need to do something, anything, before I can sink to the floor and cry like a baby. So, I go to the kitchen and press a magnet against the list, holding it to the fridge. I make room for Freddie's medicines in the kitchen cabinet where they are close enough for me to remember, along with Dr. John's phone number. Doing something productive right now is the best choice I have, so I cook some dinner for Freddie.

He doesn't come down when it's done, and I wonder if I should call him and tell him the food is ready, but instead I sit alone at the table, looking nowhere in particular. Before the food gets cold, he walks into the kitchen and pulls out a chair that makes a loud wheezing sound. I can tell he's being noisy on purpose. Freddie eats quickly, avoiding me at all costs, and I feel like crying again. I want to be able to talk to him, just to end this tension between us.

"I'm happy you're home." I say carefully.

He doesn't answer.

"Is your food cold? I can heat some more if you want." I offer.

Still nothing.

"Do you want some juice?"

Nothing.

"You can at least shake your head if you don't want to talk to me." I say sadly, defeated.

He sends me a look that doesn't really say anything. It's just plain and blank. No rage, no love, no disappointment – just nothing. And its worst than hate, because the cold coming from him might actually freeze me to death.

"I know you hate me…for what happened, and I don't blame you, I just…I just want you to know that I'm happy you're home again."

Freddie keeps eating, like I'm not even there and part of me starts to feel annoyed. I hate being ignored, especially by someone whose attention I want so much. Deep down inside, I should be thanking God he didn't just ask Ellis to get rid of me, but I also feel angry that he's treating me like that, even though I deserve it.

"Freddie…I know I've made a mistake, but I love y-"

Before I can finish my declaration of love, he stands up, making the chair fall backwards, and throws his napkin on his half empty plate.

"I'm not hungry anymore."

He storms out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with my regrets. I shouldn't have mentioned anything, I should've kept my mouth shut. I ignored everything Doctor John told me. _No confrontation. _No confrontation, I remind myself.

* * *

><p>I feel like a zombie when I clean the kitchen and put the leftover food in the fridge – I didn't even eat. When being inside the house is too much to handle, I walk out of there and sit on the porch, on the bench where we kissed for the first time. It's too much to take, there's so many feelings overwhelming me, taking over my soul, it makes it impossible not to cry. My eyes force me to look towards the backyard, where I dreamed Freddie and our kids were so happy one minute, then being taking away from us the next.<p>

I bury my face in my hands and cry all the tears that I have left in me. Soon, I'm sobbing, and it's ugly and disgusting, but I can't contain myself. I need to let it out, and I need to deal with my emotions right now. I can't bottle them up and snap at Freddie. This won't help him. Maybe my presence here won't help him either. I cry harder when I think that he's probably better off without me anyway.

"Hey."

I lift my eyes to look at Carly, who has a sad smile on her face that is so genuine, she might as well be feeling my pain right now. I sit straight, and she sits beside me, sighing.

"It's cold out here, why aren't you wearing a jacket?"

"It can't be colder than in there, so I think I'll survive."

"What happened?" She asks, wrapping her arm around my shoulder.

"He won't even talk to me…he hates me Carly…he hates me!" I say between sobs.

"Oh, Sam, of course he doesn't!"

"He does! He does! He hates me and it's all my fault!" I bury my face in her neck. "He's probably better off without me anyway."

"No, he's not." She kisses the side of my head. "Wanna know what he told Brad when Brad told him about Ellis wanting to remarry you?"

I lift my head to look her, so fragile, afraid of what I might hear.

"He begged Brad to protect you, to not let anyone hurt you. He agreed on do anything to keep you safe, and when Ellis told him a lot of guys would want to marry you, he said, and I quote, _'she's mine'._ It's true, Brad was there. He told me."

My heart races at the sound of that. I want to believe it. Even after what I've done, how can he possibly still care about me like that? He's keeping his promise that he will protect me that he won't let anything happen to me, that he'll keep me safe. Just like I would do for him. And I love him even more for that. I cry a little more, happy this time, because now I feel some hope that we might be okay again. He might still love me.

"He was very concerned the whole week, couldn't even sleep. Once, he had a dream Ellis was going to take you away from him, and he called Brad, desperate. I'm telling you, Sam, he might be upset and hurt, but his love for you is still there. You just have to help him see it. You just have to be a little patient."

"Everything…anything he needs, I'll do it! I just love him so much, and it hurts that he even doubts that, but I guess I'm the only one to blame."

"It's okay. You'll see, everything will be okay."

I nod and rest my head on her shoulder. I really want to believe things will be okay, and I'll give the best of me to make that possible. I'd rather have him hating me for the rest of our lives then not having him at all.

I'd rather live without his love that without him.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Hey guys. So I'm updating today, because this week my exams start and I won't be able to write. Yeah, it sucks, I know. Anyway, I'll try to write some, but I doubt I'll something to update next Sunday. Not much to say today, just that the episode was disappointing, but every episode without Seddie in it is boring for me. Freddie was hot – that's not news – I didn't like Carly calling him "hot pants", I was like "BITCH GET AWAY FROM SAM'S MAN!" The One Direction guy that Sam raped in the elevator was pretty hot – I don't blame her – but that elevator was sacred to Seddie. My cries. So, yeah, I'm sad, because there was no seddie… but soon you'll get plenty of seddie in my fic! I don't like them fighting for too long…_

_**edited by Clarksonfan (thank ya girl!)**_

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><p><em>Air Supply – All Out Of Love (I love me some old cheesy songs!)<em>


	23. Our War

**Genre**_**:**__ Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OOC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

* * *

><p>Not even the night is a comfort anymore. The days pass by me slowly, an hour seems more like five, and the emptiness I feel only grows. Her presence hurts, just as much as her lie did, but I know that if she wasn't here, it would probably be worse. I can see her, she's within my reach, but I can't reach out and touch her. I could, but I won't. I see it in her eyes, the longing she feels, and I see how her fingers twitch towards me, as if she wants to touch me, but I won't allow it.<p>

I can feel the bitterness deep within my chest, and I want to engulf myself in it, hoping I'll stop feeling – hoping I'll become numb. But at the same time, I just want to crawl in bed with her and hold onto her forever. My pride won't allow me to give into my desires. I'm still hurt, I'm still fighting a battle inside my own mind, it's still too soon to forget – and to forgive.

I lie in bed awake at night, hoping that sleep will find me, but my eyes are wide open and they won't close. I consider taking an extra pill to sleep, but I don't want to leave the room. This time I'm not sleeping on the couch, I'm tired and my body needs rest, so I forget whatever reason I had not to sleep in the guest bedroom and just move my things there. The look on her face when she saw me moving my clothes to the other room almost made me want to stay – almost.

Only time will tell how life is going to be like for us and if I'll ever be able to let myself trust her again. I don't know if I'll be capable of that, but I do know I love her. I love her so much it almost drives me crazy - literally. I've never felt this way before, this strong aching throbbing on my chest – it calls her name and beats only for her. It's sad, how I came to this, how my life has become so affected by one person. It's sad, that after everything I did to survive, nothing of that seems to matter, because the pain consuming me might as well kill me.

Lying here alone, I realize my body misses her warmth, that since she walked into my life, there isn't one minute I don't long for her closeness. I should be hating her and cursing her, trying to get her out of my mind, but I don't do any of those things, and that's what irritates me the most. The fact that I can't even be mad at her anymore makes me feel like I'm not even in control of my own feelings. It's like she has my heart in her hands, and she could do whatever she wants with it, and even if I want to object, I don't.

But I won't give in. I won't give up and let her lead me on anymore. Sometimes I dare to let myself believe she only did that to protect me. I want to believe she loves me, but I just don't. I feel like I'm back to square one when we were strangers living under the same roof. But this time, she's me – trying to make thing easier – and I'm her – wary and suspicious. Now I'm really able to understand how she felt when she first came here.

Closing my eyes, I try to fall asleep because I need the rest – I have an important meeting tomorrow. Yeah, Frank Ellis is coming over, apparently, becauseI still need supervision. I sigh, trying to fall asleep, but after thirty minutes, I just give up. Downstairs in the medicine cabinet is the only thing that's able to give me what I want, so I force my legs to move and walk out of the room. Seems like everywhere in this house holds a memory of me and Sam – a good memory. As I climb down the stairs, I remember the first time she kissed me on the cheek. It was right here on this very step.

I shouldn't let myself dwell on that sort of thing, so I shake my head and keep on moving. I remember Sam telling me she put my medicine in the second cabinet to the left, first drawer. It's close to the oven, so she'll remember where it is. Things like that makes me want to do something stupid, like say thank you, or just kiss the life out of her, but I have to control myself. I want more than anything to go back to the way things are, and I want to believe her, but I just… I'm confused and hurt. Maybe it's too soon to tell, we didn't even talk about anything that happened yet. I don't feel ready to go there, and Doctor John told me to take my time, and just talk about it when I'm ready.

Without a glass of water, I take my medicine and prepare myself to walk out of the kitchen when I hear soft sobbing sound coming from outside. Maybe it's a cat or something. I open the kitchen door, very carefully, and sneak my head out. I see a person, sitting on the porch, all curled up into a ball – crying. She sniffs and starts to sob all over again, burying her face in her knees. She hugs her legs to her chest, and I can see her knuckles turning white. I don't need to see her face to know who she is.

I don't know what to do. My head tells me I should leave her outside, crying in the cold until she freezes to death, but my heart hurts – it breaks with the sight of her. Even if I was able to hate her, which I'm not, I wouldn't want her to suffer. I don't know if I should just ignore her and go back to my room, or if I should go outside and do something. But what can I do? What can I do that will not give her the impression that I already forgave her and that will tell her everything is okay?

As much as I want to, I can't leave her like this outside…but can I? And why not? She tore my heart out and broke it to a million little pieces. She deserves whatever is coming her way. Only… I can't do that, can't watch her suffer like that. It doesn't make me feel better, it doesn't change anything, it only hurts me more. I should just make peace with the fact that even if I should hate her right now, I don't. I'm not able to.

I step outside, although she hasn't see me yet, so I walk really quietly and sit on the bench. I can almost feel the warmth coming from her, and it makes me long for her touch. I move away a little, afraid that if I get closer, I won't be able to control myself. She finally lifts her head up, and I can see the mess she's made – or I made. Her eyes are red and puffy, her face is wet with tears, and her hair is messed up by the wind. But when she sees me, her face turns from sad to terrified. She seems panicked, and vigorously wipes the tears off her face, turning her head away from me. She seems almost embarrassed I saw her like this.

"It's cold out here. You really should go inside." I say.

"Did I wake you up? I didn't mean to, I was just…"

She seems scared, just like she was on the first day she was here. It's like she still thinks that after all this time, I would do something to her…something mean. It really hurts me when she thinks like that. And I guess she never really stopped believing that one false step and I was going to beat her or something. It didn't help the fact that I'm crazy, and she knows it. I just want to tell her that I won't hurt her, even if I'm crazy.

"I was awake. Couldn't sleep. But you really should get inside." I say, bitterly.

I get up, not sure if I should stay here any longer. I have so much I want to say to her, but the words won't come out. Before I can leave, she grabs my hand, her grip tight, afraid I will yank my hand away and leave. And I should do just that, but for some reason, I don't. There's something about her warmth or the way she's looking at me right now that makes me want to reconsider all the reasons why I'm mad at her.

"Please…" She whispers, and I'm not sure what's she's asking me.

"Please what, Sam?" I try to sound as annoyed as I can.

"I just…nothing…I'm sorry, Freddie."

She releases my hand, and her eyes drop to the floor. She looks defeated. I sigh, trying to fight the ache in my chest – I just don't want to feel it right now.

"I'm not ready to forgive you yet, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you, so come on, and get out of this cold." I say.

Sam looks up to me, eyes shining, a small smile playing on her face. It suddenly makes it all feel a lot better. I offer her my hand again, and she takes it, her smile growing wider. I don't want to give her the impression that everything will go back to normal right now, but I also don't want to let go of her hand. Is it weird that I could be here, stuck in this moment, forever? Is it weird that just holding her hand satisfies me?

She stands up, not releasing my hand and I don't want her too. She intertwines our fingers, looking at me from the corner of her eye. Probably trying to make sure I'm not going to snap or something. I don't do anything about that, and we walk into the house, close the door and climb the stairs, still holding hands. I stop in front of her bedroom – our bedroom – and try to disentangle my fingers from hers, but she won't let me.

"I know I'm not supposed to say this, that I'm not supposed to talk about it until you're ready, but I just need to tell you…I know that you don't believe me now, and maybe never will, but I love you, Freddie. All that I did was because I love you. You think I was crying because of you, but I wasn't. I have…a problem with…that kind of thing…that we did…and that problem was what made me cry, not you. I want to be with you, I want it every second of every day, and these last couple of days that we've spent apart only made me realize how much I love you and how much I need you in my life. I miss you."

Sam whispers this softly, standing on the tip of her toes to give me a kiss on the cheek. My heart thumps like crazy inside my chest, and I feel just like a school boy getting a kiss from his crush. I'm pretty sure I must be blushing from the heat on my cheeks, I must be blushing hard. Thankfully, it's dark and she won't be able to see it. When she pulls away, I fight the urge to kiss her, grab her and carry her to our room. There are so many things…so many things I want…Damn it!

"Can we not talk about that right now?" I ask.

"Sure. Whenever you're ready…whenever you want. I'll be waiting for you, just say when."

She caresses my cheek with her thumbs, and I try to control my breathing. I'm so thankful when she pulls away and closes the door behind her – our eyes not leaving each other's until the door is finally closed.

I don't know if it was the pill, or just the fact I was so close to her – like I haven't been in days – but as soon as my back hits the bed, I fall asleep.

* * *

><p>I wake up in the morning to the smell of coffee. I take a good and long shower before changing into some comfortable clothes – just a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt. I know Dr. John won't mind, he's not used to seeing me in fancy clothes anyway. I comb my hair and go downstairs. One step at the time, I remind myself, as I try really hard to keep focus. Tonight, the lovely Frank Ellis will come to visit me and make sure I get to keep my wife. I better be prepared.<p>

Brad and Dr. John have an agreement to take care of me, and my best friend was smart enough to synchronize my appointments with Ellis' visits. Dr. John will make sure I'm okay when Ellis comes over, but I know that what will keep me from going ballistic on him is my will to keep Sam safe. I made a promise, and I'm going to keep it. Speaking of Sam, from outside the kitchen, I can hear her humming. I stop and lean against the wall, recognizing the song she's humming.

When I first cooked for Sam, I remember that we danced afterwards…an old song was playing…_When I Fall In Love. _It's one of the dearest memories I have of Sam. I just can't believe she remembers it. With my heart thumping, threatening to rip out of my chest, I walk into the kitchen, stomping my feet. Hopefully she'll notice me and stop singing. Sam turns around, wearing a black old apron that says _good wives wear pink. _I chuckle a little, trying to suppress it, but it's too late, she already saw it.

"Wendy made this for me. Do you like it?" She asks, with a hint of hopefulness in her voice.

"Whatever." I say, taking a sip of my coffee.

Her smile dies, and she looks down, taking a deep breath. Oh God, I hate this! I hate that look! Why does she have to make that face!

"It's funny." I say.

The smile immediately returns to her face, and she puts some egg on my plate. When she turns her back to me, I rub my face and curse myself. _Stupid, you're supposed to be mad! Idiot! If only Gun Smoke could see you right now! Wuss! What are you, the girl in this relationship? Jackass!_

"Do you want some bacon?" She asks me, waving the pan in front of my face.

"Y-Yeah…sure." _Idiot._

She happily serves me of some bacon and returns to the oven. I eat some, and she comes back with my medicine. I nod at her, telling her _thank you, but I got it from now on, _but she doesn't take her eyes off me. I guess she wants to make sure I take them. I grunt and swallow my pill without water.

"Brad is going to pick me up and take me to my appointment. I'll be back here around eleven." I announce.

"Oh…okay…" Sam sits on the other side of the table and starts to eat.

Aside from the glances she keeps throwing my way, the breakfast goes by pretty much like every other day since I've been back home – quiet, like a funeral. I eat my meal as fast as I can without choking. I really just want to get out of here. Sam, who's usually happier about her food, eats quietly and doesn't seem in a hurry to finish or fill another plate. I think she lost some weight – she looks like she did. Brad told me she never left the hospital, except for work. And even if I didn't want to see her, she would never, ever leave the lobby in the hope that I would change my mind.

I ignore these feelings and stand up, walking to the sink to wash my dish. In a second, Sam jumps out of her chair and yanks the plate out of my hands.

"You don't have to, I'll do it for you."

I sigh and rub my face. I'm not about to have another argument with her about who washes the dishes.

"Okay, whatever."

With that, I turn my back and walk away.

* * *

><p>I decide to wait for Brad outside. I don't want to be in there with her. She makes it even harder for me to hold a grudge and I want to do have it – have the right to be mad. I sit on the sidewalk, waiting for Brad who arrives two minutes later. He scrutinizes me when I get into the car, probably wondering if I took my pills or whatnot. It annoys me, but it also comforts me the way he cares about me.<p>

"I already took them, so you can stop eyeing me and drive." I say, buckling my seatbelt.

"I'm just making sure." He shrugs and starts the car. "So?" It takes him half a minute to open his mouth again. "How are things?"

"I'm taking my pills, eating, showering…as you can see, I'm alive."

"I wasn't referring to that. I was asking about you and Sam. How are things with Sam?"

"I don't want to talk about that." I growl.

"Alright, whatever. I just thought you should know that Carly found her crying outside on the porch the other day. She's pretty bummed, and you're not helping."

"I don't care about her needs. I need to be angry right now, so I'm going to be." I say, crossing my arms against my chest.

"I just think you're being a little too harsh. I don't know what the hell happened between the two of you, but I know you love her – and don't even try to deny it – and she loves you too. With a little bit of effort, you two can work it out, but you're not even trying."

"Who are you? A couple's counselor? My therapist?" I snap.

"I'm your best friend and I want you to be happy. That's all."

"Then stop talking about it!"

"Okay, alright!"

The drive is quiet, and he doesn't ask me anything anymore. It's good this way, because I don't want to argue. I'm sick and tired of him telling me that she loves me, that I should forgive her, that I should work things out. He doesn't know what she did, he doesn't know anything. I close my eyes and fall asleep until we get to the hospital. Brad shakes me awake once we're there.

"You don't have to come in." I tell him.

"Don't make that face at me." He says, sounding like my mother. "I'll come with you and wait for you in the lobby just like we did before."

"Whatever, mom."

I walk past him and right to the receptionist. She already knows me, so I don't need to tell her my name. She tells me to wait for a bit, so I go and sit in a chair next to the door. Brad sits beside me, crossing his legs and opening a Visualize brochure. It's not long until the receptionist calls my name, and I get up, relieved.

"Freddie?" Brad calls before I go.

"What?"

"Just…nothing. Nothing."

Whatever he wanted to tell me seems like it can wait. I nod and walk away.

The office is just as I remember: clean, with pastel walls and white furniture. It feels like a nuthouse in here. I know that Dr. John is not allowed to redecorate, and he tries to make me feel less uncomfortable, but that doesn't make the room any less suffocating. Every time I come here, I realize just how much I don't want to be locked away in an institution. The doctor is already sitting in his armchair, waiting for me with his yellow notebook and silver pen.

"Hello, Freddie."

"Hey."

I take a seat gingerly, clapping my hands together.

"You can lay down Freddie."

"I'd rather stay sit."

"Okay. Shall we start?"

"Sure." I nod.

"So, I remember that you told me your first night back home wasn't nice."

"I couldn't sleep."

"And why not?"

"I was too agitated…I don't know, I just couldn't fall asleep at all."

"And now? Is it better?"

I'm tempted about not telling him about last night, but I know that won't help my case. I must not keep secrets from my doctor – he's only trying to help me.

"It got a little better."

"And why is that?"

"I talked to Sam last night…and we held hands…and she said she loved me…and kissed me on the cheek." I stammer out.

"That is quite an improvement." He gives me a genuine smile.

"Well…it wasn't like that…I just…I'm confused." I run my hand through my hair.

"Did it help you to sleep better?"

"Yeah…."

"Did it make you feel better?"

"A little…"

"Freddie, it seems to me that hating Sam makes you feel bad, so why don't you try to work things out with her?" He asks me, dropping his glasses onto his lap, and I know he's not being a Doctor with me now – he's being a friend.

"Because I want to be mad! I have a right to be angry! I'm not supposed to forgive her so easily, she deserves it! She broke my heart, made me suffer. I want her to hurt too!" I snap.

"But by hurting her you're hurting yourself. You really think you're getting something out of that? It seems to me you lose either way."

"I just…don't want to make her think she has the upper hand with me. If I let her get away with that lie, she'll just get used to it, and she'll do worse things. I can't afford the pain, you know I don't deal with that really well."

"So you're punishing her because you're afraid she might get used to hurting you?"

"Yes…I guess."

"You want to teach her a lesson, so she'll know better not to mess with you next time?"

"Well…uh…"

No, not really…but he doesn't let me answer.

"You want to punish her for being a bad wife and a liar?"

What? No! I don't want that…I think.

"No…I just want to…"

"Make her suffer? Hurt her?"

No! I don't! I don't want to hurt her!

"Stop! No! It's not that!"

"You want to make her pay for what she did?"

"No! I would never hurt her! I love her!" I scream, hoping he'll stop talking.

Dr. John looks at me and smiles, after scrabbling something on his notebook. I'm so angry at him, he's not supposed to make me mad, he's supposed to help me!

"Now, Freddie. I want you to look deep inside of you, and tell me if you're not relieved."

I put my hand on my chest, noticing that some of the weight has been lifted from my heart. I realize that it's been a while since I admitted I loved Sam to someone other than myself. Hearing my voice saying it out loud makes so much more sense to me than just thinking about it.

"I…it's been a while since I admitted that."

"See? You don't want to hurt her, not really, you just want to protect yourself and there is nothing wrong with that. But I think that keeping your guard up is not going to help us progress with your treatment. You can't keep bottling it up inside you, Freddie. Your emotions, they can't keep being locked inside of you. You have to let it out. Let her know how you feel, I think you deserve to tell her exactly how she made you feel."

I sigh, nodding my head.

"It will not only help you progress in your treatment, but it will help to create a better living environment, not only for Sam, but for you too. That's a big part of your treatment. Tell her exactly what you're feeling, nothing less, nothing more, but also try to listen to her. Have you ever wondered why she did what she did?"

I nod.

"But you'll never know for sure until you ask, am I right?" I nod again. "And I think you deserve to know why. I think you deserve to know what was going through her head in that moment. Don't you wanna know that?"

"I do…I want to…"

"Good. I thought so."

He scrabbles something in his notebook, and all of it leaves me thinking. I do want to know why, I think I deserve to know.

* * *

><p>I take another shower. This is something I do a lot when I have problems. It seems like the water helps to wash away all the tension and the worries of the day. It would take me more than five showers per day to wash away all my problems, but for the moment I feel relaxed. The cold water helps me put my head in the right place, it helps me think and see things as they really are.<p>

Sometime during the drive home, I was left with this question on my mind. _Am I being too hard on her? _Sure, I have the right to be hurt, and I have the right to be mad, but maybe, just maybe I'm going a little overboard? I mean, I didn't really talk to her about anything, and I really didn't listen to what she had to say. Part of me refuses to accept every moment we had was a lie. Part of me just refuses to believe her love for me isn't real. This same part just wants to know why she did what she did. I just want to know what she meant when she said s_he had a problem with that…_

Many times I've wondered if someone had…hurt her like that. But after feeling the barrier that proves she never had anyone else, I know that's not the case. But I know something happened, something bad, and I didn't even stop to cogitate that. I was too lost in my own world to even think about her. I have my own issues and my traumas and it's only fair she has a few of her own. And can I really blame her if she does? Suddenly, I feel better, a lot better, a little lighter.

I put on a button down shirt and a pair of black slacks and go downstairs for dinner. I still feel a little nervous because I know that Frank Ellis is coming after dinner. I hate that man, and I want him to stay away from me and Sam. I'd do anything I can just to keep him away from her. I don't know why, but I kind of feel like he wants to hurt her, and I can't let him do that. I'd kill him if he ever tried.

Sam is already setting up the table when I get to the dining room. It's weird to eat here, because we usually just stay in the kitchen, but I guess she wanted to make it seem like we are a normal couple in case Ellis showed up in the middle of the meal. When I see her, I feel the sudden urge to kiss her, and hold her in my arms. I just want to hug her, just once.

"You need any help?" I ask.

She turns around, giving me a sweet smile. I manage a smile back, and she seems like an eager puppy, just wanting to jump on my lap. I help her set the table, doing the best I can to ignore the longing looks she's giving me. We eat in silence, but it's less suffocating than before, it feels just like…silence, nothing hanging on the sidelines. It feels nicer, and I think I like it better this way.

We do the dishes together, and it feels somewhat familiar, like we've done this a thousand times before. We work in perfect synchronization where I wash and she dries. After we're done, the doorbell rings. Sam jumps, grabbing tightly to my hand, and I squeeze hers.

"It's okay." I tell her.

She nods, and I walk us both to the living room. I put my shaking hand on the doorknob. I just...I'm scared…not much scares me these days, but the thought of losing this girl, this woman holding tightly to my hand, seems to scare my shitless.

"Wait…Freddie…." She whispers.

"What?"

"I…" She wraps her arms tightly around my neck and whispers in my ear:_ "I don't want to lose you."_

"You…I…It's okay." I stutter.

"You may not believe me, but I love you so much...everything I do…everything I did, was to keep you with me."

She whispers this to me, making my insides melt, and the doorbell keeps ringing. Frank Ellis must be impatient, but I won't let that little prick ruin my moment with Sam. The hell with him!

"I know…I…don't want to lose you either." I whisper.

She pulls back and for a moment I think I've said the wrong thing, but as soon as her lips touch mine, I don't even remember what I said. My hands fall to my sides as she cups my face gently, but desperately. When I'm too dumbfounded to respond, she thinks she's done the wrong thing, and pulls away with a gasp.

"I'm sorry…I know I shouldn't…I just…I'm sorry…"

I know that I'm not thinking right, I know that my head is not on the right place, but that doesn't seem to matter as soon as I feel my lips on hers again. I hold her face in my hands and brush my lips sweetly against hers, just for the sake of tasting her. I pull away and kiss her temple, whispering reassurances against her skin.

"It's going to be okay. He won't take you away from me, I won't let him. I'll kill him first."

She wraps her arms around my waist, and buries her face against my chest. I hear the doorbell again.

"I'd die without you." She confesses, and I know it takes all of her to tell me that.

"Me too."

I kiss her forehead and pull away, holding on to her hand.

"You ready?" I ask.

"Yeah, let's do this chiz."

I put my hand on the doorknob, ready for whatever comes my way. I killed people, I fought in a war – this is no different. I think I can deal with this one guy. I have to.

For Sam.

* * *

><p><em>AN: What up my peeps! So, I had only one test this week, so I was able to write, but next week I have three, starting on Monday, and I'm screwed, but I do have the next chapter almost ready to go, so whenever I have some time I'll finish it. I want to thank all of your reviews and tell you that seddie's reconciliation day is really coming soon, I just can't keep them apart for too long. So that's it, enjoy the chap ladies and gentleman, and I'll go study now… blah!_

_**Edited by clarksonfan (as always)**_

* * *

><p><em>Neon Trees – Our War.<em>


	24. Talk Show On Mute

**Genre**_**:**__ Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, it would be called iFreddie by now, so. Dan Schneider (Le Nickelodeon Troll) owns everything._

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OOC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

* * *

><p>I hold on tightly to Freddie's hand as he opens the door. My body is warm from our kisses, and my heart swells with emotion, but my mind is filled with worry – I'm afraid. I've been brave my whole life, but that doesn't mean I wasn't scared. Each day that passed by, I felt more and more like a cornered wild animal. Always motivated to protect my sister, I had to be the brave one, I had to allow her to have somewhat of a childhood – she deserved that. It didn't really matter if I had to grow up fast, it didn't matter if I had to be the adult. As long as she was safe, the rest didn't matter.<p>

But my for the better part of my later years, I've lived on the edge of fear. Not so much for myself, but for the ones I loved. In my case, Melanie was all that I had left, and my goal was to keep her safe. In the end, I ended up failing her – I couldn't protect her from Visualize. When I came to love Freddie, all that I could think about was keeping him and making sure he stayed safe. Because I had lost my sister, the only person I had left, but I gained Freddie, and I saw that as a second chance. My second chance to keep – at least one person that I was able to love – safe.

Now it might all fall apart, and I might be left alone again, or worse. And there's really no one else to blame but myself. I've praised myself for being strong and independent, always tried to protect the ones I cared about, but only for my own sake, because that's what I'm good at – as an individual, I'm weak. Even though I would survive by myself, I can't stand being alone. I can endure suffering, pain, depression, I did it before. But losing the people I care about is the only thing that can actually break me.

All those years I was careful enough to not care about anyone else but my sister. I had to try really hard to tune out the rest of the world, and I wouldn't allow myself to feel anything more than gratitude. Because the more I got attached, the more I had to lose. I tried really hard to hate Freddie, and sometimes I wished he was a monster, because that way it would be easier. But he turned out to be the best thing that has ever happened to me, and the moment I realized that, I started to feel that thing again. That thing I spent my whole life feeling. I started to feel suffocated, like my every move was being watched, like something or someone could appear out of nowhere and take him away, like they did to Mel. I couldn't let that happen again.

The day they took Mel will never, ever leave my mind. It started out like any other day. We followed the schedule, did everything by the book and everything seemed , as normal as it can be when you live in an underground base under constant supervision. We were already attending the mandatory classes for a few months. We would learn how to behave, how to be a good wife, how we should live and what we should do. But I never expected them to just come and take my sister away from me like that.

I struggled, I fought and I cried, but they were many, they were stronger, and I was only one person. When they decided it was time for her to be married, they just came and took her and I couldn't do a thing about it. Why the hell did she have to be so damn good at everything? They thought she was ready because she could cook, knit and do chores. It took me longer than that to learn how to do some of those things, but after a beating every week, I had no choice. But Mel was a natural, always had been, and that was her downfall. Even though there was nothing I could've done, I still blame myself, because it was my job to protect her. I should have protected her. We couldn't be apart, that was the plan from the start – stay together.

But I couldn't do it. I wasn't able to keep my sister and I together, and for that I felt like a failure. I was almost okay when my time came, partly because staying there without Mel was too painful and anywhere else would be better, and because I thought I deserved the same fate as my sister – the one I couldn't protect. I knew that it was not possible to go against Visualize, but I will never allow myself to let go of this part of me that still feels guilty. But Freddie is someone I can't lose. I can't fail this time – not anymore than I already did – and I just have to do my best to keep him with me. He's all I have left.

All that I tried to keep, and I all that I want so bad to protect might be taken away from me right now, in this very moment. If this man decides to take my Freddie away from me, I will lose everything I have left. I take a good look at Freddie, the man who's been nothing but good to me, the one who didn't deserve to be fooled, and pray to God to give me a second chance, to let me make it up to him. I pray to God to not take him away from me.

* * *

><p>He opens the door, and I wait to see Frank Ellis' smug smile, the one that makes me cringe, but there's something different about him today – he doesn't look so confident of himself. I tighten my grip on Freddie's hand, not even wanting to think about the moment I'll have to let it go. Freddie and I step aside and let Ellis walk into the house. Every time he walks inside our house, the environment feels heavier, darkened. I just want him to leave us alone. Ellis doesn't wait for us as he makes a beeline for the living room, sitting on Freddie's armchair. He takes out a small camcorder and notebook from his suitcase and puts them on the coffee table. I gulp and sit beside Freddie on the couch.<p>

"So?" He clears his throat and crosses his legs. "Shall we start?"

"Yes." Freddie's voice is harsh and he keeps his hand in mine.

"I need you to look relaxed and natural. If it's possible, I need you to look happy."

"I'm sorry, what?" Freddie asks.

"You want to keep your wife?" Ellis whispers harshly as he moves forward, leaning towards us.

"Yes…"

"Then smile for the damn camera!" He spits, looking around, looking for something.

He clears his throat one more time, preparing himself, giving me the opportunity to look at Freddie in confusion. For starters, I didn't even know there were still cameras like that around, and secondly, what the hell was going on? Freddie nods at me, as if telling me we can do this. Ellis pushes the record button and we smile as naturally as we can – which isn't very much.

"How have you been feeling, Mr. Benson?"

He starts to record and take notes at the same time.

"Much better, thank you for asking." Freddie's polite, he keeps his fake smile, but his tone is bitter.

"Have you been taking your medication regularly and correctly?"

"Yes."

"Do you have someone that can verify that?"

"I can." I say. "I'm the one who gives him his medication."

"Great."

He writes something down on his notebook, and I realize there's some sweat collecting on his forehead. Whatever it is that scared him this way, I just hope that we can use that for our benefit.

"Are you going to your appointments with your doctor?"

"I am."

"And you're feeling more like yourself lately?"

I keep the fake smile on my face, but my eyes travel to Freddie. I don't understand what is going on. These questions don't make any sense, it's almost like Ellis is pulling back, and I can see his fist clench, like he's really angry. It feels like he's creating a show for someone, something to fool someone.

"Y-Yes…" Freddie says, a little unsure.

"I need you to be more certain of that, Mr. Benson." He insists.

It feels like he's doing what he's been told to do – by whom, I have no idea – but for the first time, it feels like he's following procedure.

"I'm feeling completely like myself." Freddie answers – his voice more confident than before.

"Do you love your wife?"

The question comes out of nowhere, and it feels inadequate for the moment, especially when dealing with Visualize. Freddie frowns, looks at me, then looks away before answering.

"Yes, I do. Very much."

I would be happy hearing Freddie admit he loves me if it wasn't for the weirdness of the situation. I still am, but something doesn't feel right. This is not what I was expecting.

"What do you love, Mr. Benson? I need you to say what you feel, and I need you to look confident and happy about it. Be genuine."

He talks like he's directing a movie, giving us instructions on how to behave, showing us what to do. My palms sweat, but I try to look my best for the camera.

"I love my wife very much." Freddie says with a smile, and he leans closer to me as he does.

"Are you thankful for the people who brought her to you?"

"I'm very thankful that Visualize brought her to me. They did a wonderful job, and I couldn't be happier."

Freddie adds a few more words, and it's a nice touch. I could swear I saw Frank Ellis sending Freddie a thankful glance.

"Do you believe love comes with time, when you work hard on a relationship to make it work?"

He directs this question to me with his eyes, and I smile before answering.

"I believe love comes with time, and it takes hard work to build up a relationship, but it's always worth it."

"Your husband treats you well? Do you think other husbands do the same?"

Now I know to what he's referring to – the Celina incident. I'm pretty sure now that Visualize is going to speak of it, they cannot afford to let anymore incidents like that happen. They can't let the people start to question their effectiveness. They're trying to cover their tracks by making us act like a happy, satisfied couple. I just don't know what they – or Frank Ellis – are going to do with this tape. Are they doing this with other couples or just us? What is this for? What the hell is going on?

"My husband is the sweetest, most respectful man I have ever met. I think Visualize will always make sure to choose the best mates for everyone."

Freddie smiles, and delivers a tiny kiss on my temple, keeping up the façade. Ellis seems more relaxed and relived now. He stopped sweating and doesn't clutch at his notebook anymore.

"Are you a happy woman?"

"I'm a very happy woman."

"Do you love the husband Visualize chose for you?"

"I love my husband, and I only have Visualize to thank for giving him to me."

"Do you follow the book of laws? You do and you're certain this is the right thing to do." He carefully whispers the last part.

"I always follow the book laws, and I believe everyone should. It's the right thing to do."

My cheeks hurt from smiling so damn much, but I've been through worse. This is nothing compared to how freaked out I feel inside, but putting on this freak show might allow me to keep Freddie and that's all I think about – it's all that I want.

"Now, Mr. and Mrs. Benson, do you believe in the Visualize philosophy? Do you think it's the best way to live?"

"We think Visualize's philosophy is the best way to live." Freddie says, and I agree. "We believe in Visualize."

"And cut."

Frank Ellis smiles, turns off the camera and tucks it carefully into his suitcase, along with his notebook. I drop my smile, relived that this freak show is over. I feel Freddie letting go of my hand to stand up. He looks pissed and confused altogether. He moves towards Frank Ellis who finishes closing his suitcase and fixing his suit.

"What the hell was that?" Freddie asks.

"Just consider this a favor you're doing for us, and in exchange you get to keep your pretty little wife!" Ellis hisses.

"I want to know what the hell this is for." Freddie demands.

I stand up and grab Freddie's hand. He's getting nervous, and the last thing we need is for him to snap and do something stupid.

"Freddie…" I whisper, but he doesn't hear me.

"You don't get the right to demand anything, Mr. Benson. Just be glad I'm not here to take her away from you!"

Freddie tries to move towards Ellis, but I grab him by the arm, pleading for him to calm down.

"Please Freddie, please." I beg. "Calm down! You can't be nervous now!"

"Listen to your lady, Freddie, and just be thankful I'm not here to split you apart. You know, I know people who would pay a great deal just to be paired up with a pretty girl like her, and I could make that happen!"

Freddie jumps to grab him by the lapels, but I wrap my arms around him and pull him back forcefully.

"Stop! Freddie, stop!" I whisper, not wanting to cause a scene. We don't need any more of them. "Please, stop!"

"Stay away from her! Do you hear me?" Freddie barks. "Nobody is going to buy my wife!"

"Oh, but I'm not so sure if I would do that…I could just keep her to myself, I know a few things I would like to do to her…"

"No! Shut up!" I yell at Ellis, trying to stop him from provoking Freddie, but it's no use.

This time I'm powerless, Freddie is quicker and stronger. He pushes me backwards and launches his body forward, his hands closing around Ellis' throat as he slams him against the wall. I see Frank Ellis squirming. He's skinny and weak compared to Freddie and he has no way to escape.

"I will kill you if you ever try to put your filthy hands on her!" He growls against Ellis's face. "I'll kill you if ever try to touch a lock of her hair!"

I grab onto Freddie's arm, trying to pry him away from Ellis – he's making the situation even worse. He's so strong, and the muscles of his biceps threaten to rip off the sleeves of his shirt.

"Freddie, no! Please, you're making it worse! Stop! Stop!" I cry out.

"I'll kill you, you son a bitch! You don't know me, you don't know what I've done, what I'm capable of! I'll kill you if you ever try to touch her, do you hear me? I'll kill you!"

I'm not strong enough to pull Freddie off Frank Ellis, so I'm thankful when Brad comes in, bursting through the door and wrapping his arms around Freddie's waist, trying to pull him off of Ellis. Still, with me and Brad trying, it's not enough to take Freddie's hands off the man's throat. I can see Frank Ellis going purple, and I'm afraid Freddie will in fact kill him.

"Stop! Freddie, stop!" Brad hisses. "Let go of him damn it!"

I don't recognize this Freddie, his strength is almost inhuman, and he growls like a savage. Even in the worst times – the first week I was here and that dammed night that put him in the hospital – I've never seen him like this. It almost scares me, and I want the calm, collected and polite Freddie to come back. I want my sweet Freddie back.

"I'm going to kill him, Brad!" He growls.

Gibby comes into the house, startled, and Brad motions for him to wait.

"No you're not! What are you trying to do, huh? Endanger yourself, endanger Sam?"

This seems to distract Freddie long enough so that Brad can motion for Gibby to step over and help. Gibby, Brad and I are finally able to pull Freddie away from Frank Ellis, who falls on the floor, coughing and gasping for air. He sends a mean look in our direction and if looks could kill, we all would be dead. Brad and Gibby keep holding on to Freddie, gripping each of his arms tightly.

"I could destroy you for that!"

"And I'll kill you if you try, you son of a bitch!" I yell. "Try and harm him and I will kill you!"

Ellis tries to growl, but it sounds more like a whimper and an attempt to breathe. He sounds weak and I don't doubt for one second that Freddie could've killed him with his bare hands.

"You have no right to talk to me like that, woman!" He hisses at me.

"Shut up!" Brad says before Freddie or I can speak. "You could destroy yourself for this too! You know the risks Ellis, you know the boss isn't happy, do you want to make the situation worse? You know that if something happens you'll go down too! Now I suggest you leave, pretend this never happened and wear a turtleneck to work tomorrow!"

The man doesn't say anything else, he just grabs his suitcase and stands up. He opens his mouth one more time, but I've had enough of him, so grab him by the lapels with all the force I can muster and push him out of the house, slamming the door shut afterwards, and cleaning my hands on my jeans. Freddie squirms against Brad and Gibby's firm grip, wanting to escape.

"Let me go, Brad! Let me kill him!" Freddie cries out.

"Shut up, Freddie! You're not going to kill anyone!" Brad yells.

"Calm down man, calm down!" Gibby begs.

Freddie groans, trying to walk and almost dragging Brad and Gibby forward with him. I watch his eyes darkening and I know what is about to happen, so I snap out of my daze and run to him. I wrap my arms around his sweaty neck and kiss above his throbbing vein.

"Freddie…please, please come back to me." I whisper. "Wherever you are, please come back. I want my Freddie back. Please, Freddie, I need you. Where are you? Please come back. Where is my Freddie? I need him, I love him. I love you. I love you."

I feel his body relaxing, no longer tense. He's shaking, and once I know it's safe, I tell Brad to let go. Freddie drops to his knees once Gibby and Brad release him, and I go down with him. Wherever he goes, I'll go with him. And I don't let go of him, I never will, I keep my arms around him, holding on for dear life.

"I love you, I love you, I love you." I keep repeating.

He relaxes and sighs, allowing me to cradle his body and kiss his temple. I close my eyes and bury my face in his neck. After a few minutes like this, I open my eyes and look at Brad, who seems to be relived, yet preoccupied. His eyes are red, and he keeps doing something with his fingers – touching his thumb with all four of them, like he's counting or something. Gibby sits on the couch, and looks like a frightened puppy – I don't blame him, I'm still shaking. I hate feeling so powerless and scared when I'm used to being so strong, but the thought of losing Freddie makes me weak, it makes me terrified.

* * *

><p>Once Freddie is calm enough, I decide it's time for them to leave. I'm thankful for all the help, but now it's time for me to take care of my husband. I cradle Freddie's face against my neck and stroke his hair. It's time for me to be there for him, even if he doesn't want me to be. This time he won't shut me out, I won't let him, I will be there for him even against his will.<p>

"Thank you guys, so much, but I can handle it from now on. You guys must be tired, you can go."

"Are you sure?" Gibby asks.

"Yes, thank you, Gibby, I can take care of him now."

"But, Sam…" Brad protests.

"Brad…it's okay. I know you've been taking care of him for years, but it's my turn now. You've got to trust me."

"Okay…" He sighs. "Do you want to call Dr. John?"

"Can you call him? Fill him in? I just want to take care of Freddie." I say, looking down at the mess my husband has been reduced too. I must look the same, if not worse.

"Sure, I can do that." He sighs, defeated.

I know he wants to be here for his friend, but it's my turn to take care of Freddie. He just has to step aside and let me do it.

"Thank you…just make sure you're careful…I don't want him to be taken away from me again." I whisper, kissing the top of my husband's damp hair.

"All right…call me if you need anything." Brad says.

"I will. Thank you, Brad, thank you, Gibby… if you hadn't shown up…" I sniff, trying not to think about what could have happened.

"No problem Sam, call me whenever you need."

I nod and they walk away, closing the door behind them. I don't move, but I cry, and I cry hard, but I try to keep my composure – the last thing I need is to startle Freddie. I'm not certain of how many minutes pass by until he moves his hands and wraps them loosely around my waist. My body goes rigid, thinking I've done something wrong, but his grip is so weak, tired, and as he sighs against my neck – probably exhausted.

"I'm sorry." He whispers.

"There's nothing to be sorry about." I say.

"I almost ruined everything…I snapped…I didn't want you to see me like that." He confesses. His voice sounds a little bit tired and very embarrassed.

"I don't care, Freddie…it's okay. You don't have to worry, you heard what Brad said, there's no way Ellis can screw us without screwing himself. We'll be fine." I kiss his temple. "We're fine, my love."

"I just don't want to lose you." He whispers. "I want to protect you."

"And I want to protect you, too. We're not going to lose each other, it's going to be okay."

I lean against the coffee table, taking him with me. He wraps himself around me with more force and he looks like a frightened little boy. I hold him tighter, because he's so vulnerable and because whatever happens tomorrow, he's mine to hold today. His breathing is steady and his body is relaxed, and I wish I could stay here in this living room forever, but it's time for his medicine and I don't want to risk letting him go without it.

"Freddie…it's time, I have to get you your medicine." I tell him, trying to stand up.

"No!" Freddie grabs me and squeezes me tighter. "Don't leave me alone…" He begs.

"Never…" I whisper. "We can go together. We'll always be together."

He nods and we stand up, still holding hands. I walk slowly to the kitchen and he follows suit. I give him his medicine and a glass full of water. He takes the pill and drinks the water and while he drinks, I wet a clean dishcloth and wipe the sweat off his face and neck. Our eyes are locked the whole time, and after he hands me the cup, I put it in the sink and he hugs me tight. I sigh and relax into his strong arms, and for the first time in hours I realize I also need some sort of comfort – I also need to be taken care of.

"I love you." He whispers and I start to cry.

The tears run hot against my cheek, and I tug on the back of his shirt until my fists are clenched. I cry until I wet the thin material of his shirt, I sob and my body shakes, and he comforts me. He rubs my backs and tells me how much he loves me. I don't think I could hear it enough, I don't think I would ever be tired of hearing it. Once I was so afraid I was never going to hear it again, and now I can't hear it enough. I pull away just the tiniest bit, enough so I can look at him. He cradles my face in between his hands and strokes my cheeks with his thumbs.

"I love you, Freddie. I do, I do. I love you so much. I swear to God, I do." I cry out.

"I believe you."

There's nothing in this world that I would like to hear more than that. Him saying he loves me is amazing, but him saying he believes me again, believes that I love him is more than I could wish for. Even after all went through today and the past few days, even with all the uncertainty of our future, this moment right here makes my heart fill with hope. Now I can hope and wish and pray things will go back to normal between us – or better.

"Thank you. Thank you so much." I whisper and hug him again.

He doesn't say anything, just lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. I hold him closer as he moves, walking out of the kitchen, climbing the stairs, and I want to merge into him so we can be one, so no one will ever separate us. Freddie opens the door to our room and places me gently on the bed, pulling away from me. Before I can beg him to stay, he sits beside me, taking off his shoes and shirt and dropping them on the floor. He removes my shoes and cardigan and helps me lie on the bed.

Once he's settles us both under the covers, he pulls me against him, and I lay my head on his chest. I sigh, because it feels so good to be this close to him again, to hold him, to feel him. Freddie kisses the top of my head, and I relax. My body is so tired, it's barely nine o'clock and I already feel the sleep creeping up on me. I feel him twining our fingers together and his other hand rubs circles on my back. He doesn't say anything, doesn't speak at all, but he's here, and he's here because he wants to be, so that is enough for me.

"Everything will be okay. I'll protect you. I'll never leave you."

I'm already slipping into dream land when I hear him say that, and I want to answer but I'm too tired. I wanna tell him I know, I wanna tell him I trust him, that I won't leave either but it's too late, I'm already gone. Because being in his arm is the most effective way to calm me down, and I've missed this more than anything. Tonight I lay relaxed, and for the first time in days, I feel content.

* * *

><p><em>AN: So, I'm exhausted, but in between one test and the other I managed to write a chapter. Yesterday I went to college at nine in the morning and left 12 hours later… I didn't eat or stopped working on my project, and when I got home, I still had things to do, so no sleep for me. I went to bed at two in the morning to wake up at six for one more test. Yes my friends – that is architecture. Anyway, I had time this afternoon so… here we are. I'm going on a trip tomorrow and that's why I'm updating today, because I won't be able to update Sunday as usual. I hope you guys like this chapter and you'll soon understand a little bit better what's going on with this whole "camcorder" thing, I promise. Also, for the ones who think Sam is being OOC, well, I did warn this could be a little OOC, and besides this fic is AU, so some things are different, but I'll try to keep her more in character next time, hopefully I'll succeed._

_Oh and a quick note, everyone should check out my friend and editor's one-shot it's called "Rivers and Roads" and it's amazing! Also, I want everyone to check out Maroon 5's new song "Payphone", you guys will loooove it! Anyway, I have to go, kisses and hugs to ya'll! (I'm actually typing and sleeping, so forgive my typos in this message) _

_**Edited by clarksonfan!**_

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><p><em>Incubus – Talk Show On Mute<em>


	25. Dig

**Genre**_**:**__ Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, I was going to name it iFreddie, but he's a jerk, dickhead, asshole, so I'm changing my choice for iSam. However, my Freddie is not a dumb ridiculous jackass, so I'm better than Dan at something. (Fuck you Dan Schneider!)_

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OCC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

* * *

><p><em>If I turn into another, dig me up from under what's<em>

_covering the better part of me, sing this song,_

_and remind me we'll always have each other_

_when everything else is gone._

* * *

><p>I had a great night of sleep and it's been days since I've felt this good. After all the commotion last night, I still feel highly embarrassed Sam saw me like that. I never intended to snap and lose my control, but I just couldn't deal with that man anymore. The things he said about Sam…the things he insinuated…they drove me mad and I lost it. The thought of him doing something mean, or hurting my Sam had clouded my mind and took over me. I don't doubt he would be capable of doing such things, and I also know I would kill him if he ever tried.<p>

Sam sighs and snuggles closer to me, and I touch her face, just glad she's here right now. I want to talk things through today, I want to understand what happened and what was going through her mind. If these last couple of days taught me anything, it's that we can work things out as long as we talk about it. I hate to admit this, but I know that part of the reason why she chose to lie to me was that I was not being open enough to that issue. For almost two months I avoided talking about it and instead of looking for a solution, I just pushed the problem aside and pretended like it didn't exist. I made up excuses and tried to pretend like it didn't matter, when I knew it did. If I had been more open, if we had sat down and tried to solve it, things would've been different and all that had happened could've been avoided.

All this time, I blamed only her for lying to me, but I never questioned why she did it. I didn't even want to hear an explanation. I was just so deep in my anger that my better judgment was clouded. But now I'm seeing clearly and I want to make things right between us. I didn't even consider the situation we've both been forced to live through and as much as I want to say I know Sam, I can't. I know nothing about her past. It's my fault altogether because I didn't even ask. Now that it hits me, it feels like I didn't even try to get to know her, I just fell in love with her and decided to erase who she was before she met me.

I had to deal with my own baggage, and I guess I was just avoiding having to know about her past because I didn't want any more to hold over my shoulders. But love isn't supposed to be like that. My mother once told me that love is a one way street, and you have to go down it together. When you chose to commit to a person, you're giving up on being a single number and you're becoming a part of the equation. You become the result of two lives merged into one, and you have to be certain of what you're doing and who you're choosing. Sure, Sam and I didn't have the opportunity to choose each other, but we chose to love each other, and with that we've made a commitment.

I was just having a hard time understanding what marriage really was – what love really is. I didn't know that now I'm not only one distinct individual, I'm not only Freddie anymore, I'm Freddie _and_ Sam. Whatever issues we have from our past shouldn't be a secret, because now we're one and can't keep anything from each other. There are some things about my past I don't want her to know. There are some things that don't really matter, but if she asks me, I'll tell her. Because now I know she's in me, and I'm in her.

So that's why I think I was wrong. I just let myself slip into that black hole again because that was easier. Is easier for me to hurt, because I'm used to hurting, but I didn't want to know that she had been hurt. I guess I postponed it because I was afraid there was something about her past I wouldn't like to hear and as long as I didn't, it wouldn't be real. I can endure all the pain and confusion that lives in my past – in my brain – but I didn't want her to have to go through the same thing. Now I realize I can't stop that from happening, if it already did. The best I can do for Sam now is to keep her safe from the harm to come and accept her past – whatever it may be.

Realizing that fact, I'm not so angry or affected about her lie anymore. I know now that it's partially my fault, that I wasn't open or understanding enough. I was living in denial, wishing I could erase her past just because I didn't know anything about it. Yesterday I knew something for sure, though. She can take care of me just like I can take care of her, so she probably could take care of herself before. I knew she was brave and strong, and it doesn't have to matter why she had to be like that, as long as she is. Whatever happened in her past that left a scar, I trust she's strong enough to overcome that, and she'll always have me here for support.

I kiss the side of her head as she stirs in my arms, waking and smiling when she sees me. Her eyes are the clearest shade of blue in the morning, and I don't know if it's because we're still here together or because she had a peaceful night of sleep – like me. She moves forward, slowly, waiting for my approval, and when I don't object, she kisses me on the lips. It's just a press of lips together, but it makes it all seem better. Although I still miss the real kisses, the ones that made my toes curl, but we're not in the right place for that right now.

"Good morning." She whispers, nuzzling her nose against my cheek.

"Good morning." I respond.

"I've missed this – I've missed us."

"Me too." I admit.

This makes her smile and she launches her body forward, kissing me again. This kiss is stronger, and I remember why I missed it so much. I let her sink her tongue into my mouth as I savor the flavor of her. And I don't care if its morning, all I know is that I missed her, and I missed being this close to her. Even when I feel her straddling my hips, I don't stop her, mainly because I want this as badly as she does – maybe even more. My hands go to her waist and I hold her close to me so that when I flip us over, I'm still completely glued to her.

Her hands go to my hair, and she bends her knees against my sides, opening her legs for me. She runs her hand down my back, then up and inside my undershirt, and I kiss her neck and collarbone. Sam writhes underneath my body, reminding me how good her body feels when she comes. I allow one of my hands to find her breast and squeeze it, while my other hand finds her inner thigh. She tugs on my hair and throws her head back with a moan that startles me. What am I doing? This is going too fast, we're not supposed to be trying that again. It was a failed experiment – it was too rushed and didn't work. I can't let myself make the same mistake again.

I can't and won't allow my desires to control me again. We have to talk. We haven't really said anything to each other yet, I still haven't asked the questions and still don't have my answers. I try to pull away, but she holds my head and kisses me. I didn't know she could be so strong. She tries to yank off my shirt and desperately grinds her hips against mine, momentarily making me forget my reasoning, but I do what I have to do. I pull away.

"What's wrong?" She asks me, blush in her cheeks and her lips swollen in a way that makes me want to kiss her again.

"Sam, I want to talk. About everything. Today. I think we should sit and talk." I say, sitting back and pulling her up with me.

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Why don't you take a shower and I'll go down and make us some breakfast?" I say and kiss both her hands.

"How about…" She smiles and reaches out to give me a quick kiss on each cheek, "you take your shower, I take mine, and we make some breakfast together?"

"Alright, that sounds pretty good." I nod.

"Okay, then…" She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me sweetly. "I missed you so much. I don't ever want to be so close to you and not be able to touch you."

"Me too." I say into her hair. "But we do have to talk today, about everything. And when I say everything, I really mean everything, Sam."

She pulls away with a quizzical expression on her face.

"I want to know your reasoning, what was going through your mind, the why, the how and the when and I want you to be as honest as possible with me. I realized that I know nothing about your past, I know nothing about who you were before me and I want to know that, I want to know you. You can ask me about my life too, I'll answer everything you want to know, because I want you to know everything about me and I want to know everything about you. No secrets."

"No secrets." She gulps.

"Promise?" I ask, holding her face in my hands.

"Yes, Freddie. I promise."

I kiss her one more time and it feels like this time we'll be able to work things out. I meant every word I said when I told her no more secrets. I want her to know as much as possible about me, just as I want to know as much as possible about her as well. Now I understand we were missing out on something important – the past – something that cannot be erased no matter how much we try to just that. I want us to know each other – everything there is to know – and I want to understand her so I can say with nothing but conviction that I know her from the inside out. That means the world to me. No more denial, no more delay.

It's now or never.

* * *

><p>We make breakfast together, and it's like a ritual. It calms me down and helps me stay grounded. As nervous as I am about our conversation and how we're going to open up to each other in only a few minutes, I also have a solid conviction that this is for the best. Whatever storm we have to face against Frank Ellis or Visualize, we'll do it together, and for that to happen there must be nothing - no walls, no secrets - between us.<p>

Sam sits on my lap during breakfast. She says she doesn't want to be away from me, so we make a big plate and eat it all together with two forks. It's fun and relaxing as I keep one arm around her waist and she leans against me, occasionally resting her head on my shoulder as she chews. It feels like we've never been apart, like I was never mad at her, like we never had that fight. Everything with Sam feels natural and makes me feel complete.

Afterwards, we wash the dishes together. I've discovered washing dishes with her can function like some sort of therapy for me where we work on the simplest task with synchronized movement and we help each other do something productive. Dr. John will be very happy to know that. When we're done, I kiss her forehead and drag her to the living room, where it will feel more comfortable to have _the talk._

My palms sweat and I feel very nervous. No one but my doctor and Brad had ever known too much about me, not like I want her to know. I feel like if I tell her, I won't have to hide anymore from the world that torments me so much – she is my world. I'm just afraid that after she knows everything there is to know, she'll be scared of me or disappointed. I still didn't have the chance to ask her if I scared her yesterday with my insanity, but she's still here, still looking at me with so much love that maybe it really doesn't matter to her. I take both of her hands in mine and sit next to her, my body turned towards her so I can look her in the eye, and she sighs. I know she's afraid too, but everything will be okay.

"So?" She starts. "What do you want to talk about first?"

"That night…the first night you came here, I never asked you how your trip was."

"You wanna talk about that?" She sounds genuinely shocked.

"Yes. That's what I want to ask you. How was your trip up here, Sam?"

"Uh…" Sam looks down at her hands, playing with my fingers as she mumbles her answer. "Terrifying. I didn't know what to expect of you, and I was actually thinking you would be a monster, but you're not. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me."

She gives me a nervous smile and I kiss the corner of her mouth, just to help her gain some confidence.

"And when you saw me, what was the first thing that came to your mind?"

"At least he's handsome." She chuckles.

"Why thank you." I chuckle. "But how did you feel at that moment?"

"So nervous, especially because I knew what was coming next and you were a stranger, a guy I'd never seen before. And I was so angry with them for wanting to control my future, for wanting to tell me how to live my life. They didn't have that right. And I was angry with you too, because somehow I saw you as a part of it. It took me a while to realize that you were just a victim like me. I was prepared for that night, for whatever happened because that was what I expected, that was what I knew and what I was told, but what you did…when you rejected me…I couldn't understand that and it took me some time to wrap my mind around it."

"I understand." I say, kissing her hands again. "It must have been terrifying for you, having to be stuck with a stranger. It was for me too, Sam. I didn't know what to expect of you and I certainly did not want to be married to a girl I'd never met. Heck, I didn't want to be married at all!"

"Oh." She frowns.

"Wait, that came out totally wrong. What I meant was, I never thought I would be stable enough to make someone happy. You saw me…I have issues, and I didn't want to worry any more people with my problems. Besides, this kind of commitment, this kind of connection is too powerful and overwhelming, and I wasn't ready for that. I wasn't ready to give myself to someone like that. I hope you understand."

"No, I do, totally. I know what you mean. I understand." She says, caressing my cheek as she speaks.

"Good." I sigh, relaxing my body, because this is going better than I expected. "And after you got to know me better?"

"It was the best surprise ever, but also everything I did not want. I could never afford to care about anyone other than myself and my sister, so I spent my whole life trying to push people away. If I didn't have anything, then I wouldn't have anything to lose. I did not want to get attached to you, but it happened and it was so fast and it was so intense that I couldn't stop it from becoming what it is, from becoming love – I didn't want to stop that feeling from growing."

"The same thing happened to me, Sam. I didn't want to care about you, I just wanted to live in peace with you and maybe we could work on some sort of system to make our lives less miserable. But when I started to feel that way about you, I didn't want to ever stop feeling it, because it was the only good thing in my life. It was the only good thing I had felt in a long time. Loving you made me feel better – made _me_ better."

She smiles and leans forward for a lingering kiss. The flavor of her lips are so familiar, yet so new and with every kiss it feels like the first one. I can't get enough of her, I'm not able to ever be satisfied, yet only this can make my body feel calm and relaxed for the whole day long. We pull away and I kiss her nose, keeping our foreheads together. Being able to be this close to her again makes me lightheaded, and whatever happens tomorrow, we'll still have this moment.

"Can you tell me about your sister?" I whisper.

"I…I uh…" She takes a deep breath of encouragement, and nods. "She is the opposite of me in every way, and I guess that's a good thing."

"What's her name?"

"Melanie. She was the prissy one, you know." She chuckles. "But she has a huge heart, like yours. You remind me of her sometimes, and I guess it's because she was the only thing I had and now you're my everything."

"You're my everything too." I say.

"I spent all those years trying to protect her from everything and everyone, but I guess it didn't work in the end. I couldn't protect her from Visualize."

"Hey," I take her chin in my hand and make her look at me, "it's not your fault okay? There was nothing you could've done."

"I know…but part of me just feels like I should've done something…I don't know."

"What happened to her?" I ask carefully.

"She was paired with this guy, and they sent her away from me. I haven't talked to her in almost five months, and I just miss her so much Freddie. The last I heard from her was from this friend she had there that was pregnant, so she could write to her cousin that lived at the same base as me. Turns out that Mel's husband wasn't anything like you…lucky she knows how to behave, so I guess…I don't know, I just hope she is okay."

Sam buries her face in my chest and cries. I feel awful for making her talk about something that hurts her so much, and I wish I could do something, anything to help her sister, so she won't have suffer. Thank God I have no living relatives other than Brad, but we don't exactly share blood or anything. I know it's a cold-hearted thing to think, but, I'd rather have no family then a family I couldn't see – a family that might be in danger. I let her cry as much as she needs to, I don't pressure her, I just rub circles on her back until she calms down.

"You can ask me anything that you want about me, too." I whisper.

"What's your favorite song?" She sniffs and smiles. "I realized I don't know it."

"Uh…it's a song called _Yesterday _by this old British band called _The Beatles."_

"I don't know that band."

"Oh, I'll be happy to introduce you to the world of good music, Samantha Puckett." I laugh. "What's your favorite song?"

"It's the melody from the music box you gave me, actually. When you were mad at me, I would listen to it every night before finally going to sleep. It wouldn't make things better, but it would ease the pain I felt, at least for enough time so that I could fall asleep."

"I'm sorry, Sam. I'm sorry I hurt you, I'm sorry for what I've put you through. We almost lost each other because of me…I'm sorry."

"No! No, no, no!" She quickly grabs my face in between her hands and delivers quick kisses all over it. "It was my fault, you had nothing to do with that, it was all me!"

"No, Sam, it wasn't. If I had been open to the subject, if we had talk about it, and tried to find a solution together, you wouldn't have had to lie to me. The fact that you felt you had to lie to me because you thought I wouldn't understand hurt, but only hurt because I know deep down inside that it's true. I never tried to understand…I…I never tried to find a solution. I just pushed the problem aside and pretended it wasn't there. I left you alone to make such an important decision and it was wrong. I should've been with you, but I wasn't, and afterwards I snapped, because I couldn't admit to myself I was wrong. It wasn't just your fault, it was mine too and I'm sorry."

"But I was the one who lied!" She protests. "I deceived you when you asked me not to. You were so good to me, you never asked me for anything in return, and what did I do to you? I'm sorry Freddie, but if there is someone to blame here, it's me."

"No." I insist. "I'm not going to let you take the blame by yourself when I know I have a share in that. We both made a mistake, that's why we both are going to try and fix it, okay? Can we do that together? I don't want to do it alone and I don't want you to do it alone either, so can we do it together? Please?"

"Yes." She whispers with a sigh. "We can do that together."

"No more secrets between us?"

"No more." She nods. "I promise."

"Okay."

"I want to know everything that was going through your mind these last couple of days. Can you tell me that? So many nights I went to bed wishing I could read your mind, I just wanted to know what you were feeling."

"I was so angry at first. You offered me heaven, but dragged me to hell instead. And I just wanted you to hurt as much as I was hurting, that way you would learn not to hurt me like that anymore. I didn't want to be vulnerable and let you believe you could do whatever you wanted with my heart and I would be okay with that, but there were so many times I wished I could just hold you close and never let you go. I hated myself for feeling that way because I was supposed to be angry. I wanted to be angry at you – I had the right to feel like that. But I learned that hurting you did me no good, it only hurt me more, but I wasn't ready to let go of my anger."

I take a deep breath and feel this ache in my chest crawling all the way up to my eyes, but I didn't want to cry, not now, I had to be steady and strong and tell her everything.

"Dr. John helped me see that I was exaggerating, he made me see how stupid I was. We didn't even talk, I didn't even ask you anything, and I deserved to know. So I guess, after that, I did some thinking and realized how wrong I was Sam. At the time it felt so right to be wrong, because you hurt me so much…I never wanted your first time to be like that – our first time. I wanted it to be something we both could remember with love, and seeing you crying beneath me…it made me feel like a monster, like I was doing something bad to you. I was hurting you and I never wanted to do that."

"You didn't hurt me, I know you never would." She says with a sniff. I lean forward and wipe away her tears. "I'm sorry that moment got tainted Freddie, but you're not a monster, trust me you're far from that – as far as possible."

"Thank you." I sigh. "I just…I had so much to hold over my shoulders, I guess I just didn't want anything else. I've seen things Sam, in the war, and I've done things – or didn't – that I'm not proud of. I just thought I was done with hurting people after that was over…"

"And you are! You didn't hurt people because you wanted to!" She grabs my face in her hands again, making me stare deep inside her navy blue eyes. "You were forced to! You could never hurt anyone, I know you couldn't."

"But last night with Ellis-"

"You were protecting me!" She argues. "You were protecting us! I would've done the same thing for you! I would kick his damn ass if he tried to hurt you or even mentioned hurting you!"

"It doesn't change the fact that I might've killed the man!"

"But you didn't!"

"Because there were people there to stop me! I wouldn't have stopped by myself!"

"Yes you would have! You would, you would! You're not bad, Freddie. You're not a monster, I know you're not."

"You don't know half of the things I've done, Sam." I say, shaking my head.

"All I know is that if it was up to you, you wouldn't have done any of it. That much I know Freddie, and it's all I need to know."

"You don't know half of the things I wanted to do…sometimes I just…there were times that I forgot about my humanity, times I only saw with the eyes of a killer…you don't know what it's like…I was losing myself bit by bit and sometimes I wonder if I still am. Sometimes I just feel my sanity escaping me…I'm afraid I'm going to lose it and never find it again. I'm afraid I'm going to be buried in my insanity."

"If you ever lose that again, we'll find it – you and I together. And if you can't, I'll go anywhere and everywhere, and I'll find it for you. And if you end up buried under piles and piles of craziness, I'll dig you up. I'll find a shovel and dig you up from underneath it. Trust me, I'll save you when you need me to, I can do that. If you ever feel like falling, you can hold on to me, and I won't let you go."

She kisses me with reassuring passion, showing me how much she loves me and that she doesn't care about my past. She would love me anyway. She does love me even after everything she saw me do. I wrap my arms around her, and hold her like there's no tomorrow. We pull away, but stay wrapped up in each other's arms, never letting go. I'm not sure how many minutes have passed until I'm calm enough and able to speak again.

"Thank you." I tell her.

"I love you, and it doesn't matter what you think of yourself, I know it's not true. I know your heart is good, I just know it because I live there." She gives a lingering kiss right on my chest, above my heart. "Just like you live right here." Then she puts my hand over her chest, and I can feel her heart beating.

"I love you." I say simply without sugarcoating it. I just feel like letting her know that and I lean down and kiss above her heart too.

"And I love you." She replies with a soft, sweet smile.

* * *

><p>There's a moment of silence between us. I lean against the couch and she lays her head on my chest and we don't speak. I regain my bearings and sigh, making her pull her head back to look at me.<p>

"Sam, I need you to tell me something…"

I take a deep breath, preparing myself for the big question. I just have to remind myself that whatever her answer is, whatever she has to share with me, it won't change how much I love her. If my problems won't change a thing for her, then hers will never make me look at her differently. I love her more than anything and anyone in this world. Nothing will ever change that, because it's already in me like a birthmark that won't fade away. She is part of me now, and nothing she can say will ever change that.

"What?" She gazes at me with uncertainty, so I kiss her softly, trying to calm her down as well as myself.

"Why did you cry? That night? Was I hurting you too much?"

She looks down again and doesn't speak. I don't pressure her, because I know it's hard to open yourself up to someone and let them see you entirely. I kiss her forehead and wait for her. I give her all the time in the world, and as soon as she feels comfortable, I know she'll talk to me. I look outside the window, and realize time flew by – it must be way pass noon now.

"I just remembered something." She finally says out of the blue, and I don't move, I just let her dictate the pace this conversation will take.

"And what was that? Was that a bad memory?"

"The worst one I have. It has nothing to do with you, Freddie. It's just…I was so nervous, and when I'm nervous I tend to let my mind wander – it always goes to bad places. It wasn't your fault, I wasn't crying because of you."

"What did you remember? You want to me tell that?"

"I…my mother was never the best mother and my father left when I was really young, so I really never knew him at all. Me and Mel, we always had to take care of ourselves, and my mother would always disappear and only return several days later. This one time, she had been gone for almost a month, and we were out of food…so I had to call grandma. Mother made us promise not to tell, but Mel was really hungry. Grandma took us to her house, and when mother came back…she told her she wasn't going to take us with her again. After that we didn't see her for a while, only when she showed up drunk late at night and yelled at grandma. When the war started, grandma got really sick and died, and my mother just disappeared. I still don't know what happened to her. So me and Mel, we went to live with my uncle and aunt."

I rub her back slowly and let her talk her heart out to me. I'm so sorry her mother and father were bad parents, but I can't understand that because my parents were amazing in their own way.

"My uncle died in the war a few months later, and we saw our aunt fall to pieces. They really loved each other. I never thought about getting married, but if I had to, I would want to marry a man like him and I would want to have what they had – luckily, I found you. I know now, and I understand what she must've felt when he died. Just the thought of losing you made me scared shitless."

"You'll never have to worry about that again." I whisper, kissing her forehead.

"I know…" She hugs me for a while before starting to speak again. "When things got really bad, me, Mel and Aunt Clara, we hid underneath the barn. Grandpa had made that hiding place years back because he was paranoid – he had been in Vietnam. We stuffed as much food as we could there, and moved underground. I guess we spent about eleven months there, hiding from the war and from the world. But we started to run out of food, so we had to go up to get it…"

Her voice starts to shake, and her eyes darken with tears threatening to fall. I calm her down, doing my best not to make her feel bad again – I don't want her to be hurt. I kiss her cheek, her nose, her mouth and tell her that I love her.

"When we were coming back…this group of foreigner soldiers spotted us, so we ran. I was so scared, Freddie…" She cries out, burying her face against my neck.

I feel this pressure in my chest and I don't want to know what's coming next, but I have to. I have to know. We are one, no more secrets. Just half of the story won't do.

"Shhh…it's okay love, it's alright."

"There was no time for the three of us get into the shelter. They would've seen us and followed us down there, so Aunt Clara told us to run and hide, and she stayed behind."

She cries harder and it makes me want to tell her to stop talking – this is hurting her and its hurting me even more. I can feel the pain with every word she says, and it's killing me.

"It's okay, Sam…you don't have to say anything else, it's alright. I don't care, I don't need to know."

"No, no. I have to finish it, you have to know." She sniffs, wipes her own tears away and keeps talking. "Me and Mel, we ran and hid, but they were able to get Aunt Clara…there was a crack in the wood, where I could see everything…Mel closed her eyes, she wouldn't watch it, but I couldn't keep my eyes closed. I felt like if I did they would find us and hurt us. And I couldn't let them hurt Melanie. I couldn't close my eyes…not even for a second."

"It's okay, Sam." I say when I notice her hands are shaking. "It's alright, you can stop now."

"No! I have to get this off my chest. Please? Let me do it!" She snaps.

"Okay." I tell her. "All right."

"When they asked her about the little girls, she told them that we ran away. They searched for us, but we covered our mouths and kept quiet. When they didn't find us, one of them got really mad and slapped my aunt across the face, making her fall on the ground. He ripped off her dress and…There were five of them, and each and every one of them…they…you know." She says in a pain filled voice. "They hurt her, and they wouldn't stop laughing. They were drunk. They were drinking, beating her and I know she was hurting, but she wouldn't move, she didn't do anything to stop them so we could stay safe. After the last one was done, he took a sip from his bottle, and took out his gun…and he shot her right in the face…twice. W-We had to stay under there for days with her corpse above us…bleeding through the cracks in the wood…until there was no blood left in her."

She starts to shake and sob uncontrollably, and I hug her. I bring her to my lap and cry with her, because whatever hurts her, hurts me. I kiss her again and again, I tell her I'm sorry, that no one is ever going to hurt her like that, I'm going to keep her safe no matter what I have to do. And I feel so bad for snapping at her that night, I didn't know this was so hard for her, but I didn't know because I never asked, and I never asked because I was afraid to know. Of course she would be scared and she would relate sex to what she saw and I couldn't blame her for that. Suddenly I feel so stupid. I was the one who ended up in the hospital, but she was the one really suffering.

"I'm so sorry Sam…if had known that…" I tell her, my voice shaking. It comes out like a uneven sob.

"You couldn't know…its okay, Freddie. That is done, it's over, it's in the past. And now that I told you that, now that I told that to someone, I feel much better. I feel like I can move on now."

"You know that I would never let anyone do that to you, right? I would never hurt you or allow anyone to do that. With me you'll always be safe, Sam."

"I know…I know that."

"I'll always love you and protect you. I'll always take care of you, I promise."

She nods and wraps her arms around my neck. We lay back into the couch, with her on top of me. I keep caressing her back and kissing her head, telling her over and over again that I love her.

"That doesn't change anything for you, does it?" She asks without looking at me.

"It changes everything." She turns her head to look at me, and I brush a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Now I know what was really going through your mind. Now I know you didn't do anything to hurt me. Now I know your deepest, darkest secret Sam, and it changes everything now that I know. But if you're asking if it changes the way I feel about you, the answer is no, because nothing and no one can ever change that, and I want you to be certain of this."

She leans forward and kisses me, then rests her head back on my chest.

"I feel like I've gotten so lucky and I really don't know why." She tells me.

"Because you deserve every ounce of happiness in this world, Sam, and I wanna give you just that, and everything else you might wish for."

"All I want is you. That's all I need."

"That you already have, and you'll never lose that, my love. Never – not if I can help it."

"And some bacon…" She says after a while.

"You know, I think I might have some of that in the fridge, too." I chuckle.

"Promise you'll never let me run out of it?"

"Never! What do you think I am? Stupid?" I laugh.

"I'm just making sure." She chuckles, and sighs into my chest.

If she asked me for the moon, the stars and the universe, I would give it all to her. I know it sounds cliché, but I would give her every ounce of sand in the beach, and every drop of water from the ocean if it would make her happy, and still, all she wants is me. Never once had someone wanted nothing but me, and I never wanted anything but just one person before – one love.

And I would do anything to keep her – even kill for it.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Hey I'm back! Updating right now so I can go to sleep! Can we please not talk about that ridiculous episode please? Seriously Dan, FUCK you! I hate you for ruining Freddie's character for me! Dickhead! But I don't want to talk about it, I'm just too sad! My fiancé thinks, well, that Freddie is doing that to get back at Sam for dragging Zayn into their elevator, flirting with him and probably making out with him where they (obviously) did the deed. Doesn't Freddie know Zayn is as gay as it gets? HE'S IN LOVE WITH LIAM YOU DUMB ASS! (ziam is my new OTP, btw.) Anyway, I'll shut up now. I hope you guys like Sam's background story and can understand a little bit more of her behavior and why she is the way she is. If not, well, I tried._

_**Edited by (the fantastic) clarksonfan!**_

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><p><em>Incubus – Dig (My favorite song in the whole wide world!)<em>


	26. More Than This

**Genre**_**:**__ Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, I was going to name it iFreddie, but he's a jerk, dickhead, asshole, so I'm changing my choice for iSam. However, my Freddie is not a dumb ridiculous jackass, so I'm better than Dan at something. (Fuck you Dan Schneider!)_

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OOC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

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><p>He pushes the strap of my nightgown to the side so he can kiss the skin on my shoulder. I let out a heavy, happy sigh and relax my body against his. He leans against the headboard of the bed and I lay cocooned by his arms, my back against his chest. After we had that conversation, there was a lot of crying and breakdowns, and although it was hard, it was also for the best. I can't help but feel this weight being lifted off my shoulders now that I can finally share my secrets with someone I love. Things have been more clear and natural between us. Now we aren't practically strangers anymore, seeking some sort of comfort in each other, trying to survive the situation we've been put through.<p>

Now we're husband and wife.

Well, almost, completely. There's just one thing missing. And I want it so badly. I want to feel his hands on my bare skin again and I want him to touch me and love me the way only he does. I'm dying to feel him inside me again. This time I'll be free of confusion, panic and fear – this time I'll be filled with him and love. My body literally aches for his touch, but I don't know how to voice it. I don't know how to tell him I want him, leaving no doubts that this time it's for real.

He rubs his hands up and down my arms and whispers in my ear how much he loves me and how I'm safe right here in his arms. And I believe him. I believe everything he says, because I know it's true, because from now on there isn't going to be a single lie between us. I snuggle a little bit closer as we watch the birds singing outside our window. It's Saturday, so neither of us have to work, and I'm glad I can just spend the day wrapped up in his arms, listening to the soft sound of his voice.

Brad called yesterday to ease the angst and anxiety from our hearts. Apparently Frank Ellis hadn't mentioned a word about that little encounter he had with Freddie, and no one suspected anything – if someone did, they hadn't taken the trouble to mention it. What we still don't know is what that recording meant. Brad claims he doesn't know anything, and Carly even told us they had to go through the same process. Now, I'm not insinuating that Brad is hiding something, but I guess he has a feeling about this and he doesn't want to share it with us.

But for now, I'm done being scared of everything. I've been like a cornered little cat since the day I got here, and I didn't even realize I was losing myself in the process. Now that I know that Freddie needs me just as much as I need him, I have to be strong for his sake too. Whatever we have to face in the future, we'll do it together, because from now on, we'll never be apart. I turn my head to look at him, my amazing husband, and he gives me a kiss on the nose.

"Are you hungry?" He asks.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" I frown.

"Stupid me." He chuckles.

"You're not stupid, your question was just nonsensical." I tell him.

"Thank you, milady." He says with a smile that can light up a whole nation. "What do you want to eat?"

"Some bacon, toast and eggs." I say, snuggling closer to him.

"Okay, I'll get on that right now." He tells me, trying to get up, but I don't allow him to let go of me.

"But I don't want you to leave me." I say, snuggling even closer to him.

"Then why don't you come with me?"

Before I can answer he has me in his arms, bridal style, just the way he should've carried me on our wedding night. But for obvious reasons, he didn't. I squeak when he threatens to let me fall with my ass on the floor after I punch his shoulder lightly, and we laugh at this. He carries me downstairs and places me gently on the counter. I watch him work on our breakfast, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and an apron.

I bite my lip, mentally undressing him. I'm so glad he isn't ashamed about his scars anymore, and if only he knew what they do to me, he would walk around showing them off more often. His biceps contract while he moves his arms, frying my bacon and making some eggs. I should feel guilty for not helping him with breakfast, but my body tingles, and I feel hot all over, and I just want to sit here and watch him lustfully.

His body is so perfect, I just want to run my hands and tongue all over him, and I want to do things I didn't even know I knew existed. Freddie puts the food on a plate and places it on the table. He comes to get me off the counter, but I grip his shoulders instead, pressing my lips hard against his. I hear him moaning softly against my mouth when I press myself against him a little too hard, making him stumble backwards a little bit.

He steadies himself, and pushes back against me, accepting the tongue that begs to explore his mouth. I open my legs and wrap them around his waist, trapping him between my thighs. My skin feels like it's on fire, and my lungs are out of air, but I don't ever want to stop kissing him, so I don't. I let my hands roam all over his muscular chest, his strong back and well built arms, but the need I feel only increases and I need something, anything more.

I break the kiss to suck on his perfect neck, and I feel his hands gripping the hem of my nightgown to pull it up a little bit. I gasp, feeling his hand cupping my center – where I'm so hot and wet I might drown his fingers with desire. He rubs me through my underwear, and I'm dying to feel his thick fingers in me again – flesh against flesh. I push my hips into his hand, begging for more, letting him know just what I want.

"This is not sanitary." He whispers between kisses. "We're in the middle of the kitchen."

"I don't care." I try to say, but it sounds more like a long and raw moan. "I need you now."

"Sam…are you sure?" He grabs me by the shoulders and forces me away from him.

"I'm burning up." I purr, my mouth slightly agape and my eyelids heavy with lust. "I'm hot and wet and it's all for you…I need…some sort of relief, Freddie. Please, I miss you so damn much."

"Oh God…" He groans before crashing his lips against mine again.

I'm aware we are in the middle of the kitchen and suddenly, I'm also aware I'm being laid on the table, and I'm one hundred percent sure I'm going mad with desire once I feel his hand touching me just where I want to be touched. I've been waiting for this so long, to feel the way his fingers work to drive me insane – and succeed – his hot breath on my neck, his tongue and teeth on my nipples. Everything is perfect as I feel him above me and all over me.

It's when he inserts one of his fingers inside me that I gasp, not sure how I feel about it. It's less than a second before I find out I like it, and I like it a lot. I move my hips against his finger, and he pulls back, looking into my eyes.

"Are you okay with this?" He whispers to me, always concerned for me.

"I'm more than okay, actually…" I manage to say. "I'm perfect."

He kisses me long and hard, moving his finger in and out of me and continually rubbing my mound of nerves. I gasp and moan and groan, and I feel my body reacting, moving and rocking against his hand. But this is nowhere near what I want right now. What I want is to feel him inside of me again – hot, long and stretching – and I want to feel it all this time for all the right reasons. I gasp, throwing my head back when he adds another finger inside me, and even though his fingers are long and thick, what I want from him is even longer and thicker. There's so much space in me begging to be filled out by him, all of him. His fingers alone won't do the work.

"Freddie…" I moan and squirm. "I want you inside me…"

"I am inside you." He whispers, his voice sexy and low in my ear.

"No…oh god…I want your…I want to have you…I want you to take me right here and now."

The movement of his fingers stop and I'm waiting for him to remove them and insert himself inside of me, but he doesn't so I open my eyes to see what's wrong. For a moment I think I've done something wrong, or said something I shouldn't, but he just looks at me. Sex has always been a delicate subject between us, and after everything that happened, I understand if he gets suspicious by hearing me say that, but I'm not lying, and he must know that – I promised him I wouldn't.

"There is nothing in the world I want more than to just get rid of my boxers, right now, and push myself into you." He says, and I moan, just imagining his boxers on the floor and him pushing nonstop into me. "I want to feel you so tight and wet around me and I want to make you come long and hard. Over and over again."

"Freddie…" I move my hips against his fingers, feeling my body growing even hotter.

"But I don't want it to be like this. This time, Sam, I want it to be special. Can you understand that?"

For a moment I forget all about my bodily needs to cup his face and caress his cheek. How did I get so lucky? It's still a mystery, but I'm done wondering and feeling undeserving of this love. He has so much to give to me. He's mine and I'm his, and that is the only thing that matters, so I'm just going to enjoy it and make the most of this feeling. I'm awestruck with his gesture, but I know I shouldn't be. Freddie is always thinking about me. In his world, I come first, and that is something that has never happened to me before. Although I can feel how much he wants me right now – I feel it against my thigh – he refuses to give into his own desires so that this can be special for me.

I wouldn't object, complain or regret it – certainly not cry this time – if he just made love to me right here and now. In fact, I can almost hear my body crying out for him, so he wouldn't have to feel guilty, he wouldn't have to feel like he was hurting me or something, yet he still refuses to take me on the kitchen table. I'll admit that it's not a very romantic place to make love with your husband for the first_ real_ time, but our bodies are hot, and we're both dying to give into our unfulfilled desires. We could just get rid of our underwear and be united right here and now, but that wouldn't be special, not like the way he wants it to be – not like he always wanted this to be.

"Any time with you is special for me, Freddie. Anywhere, everywhere, it doesn't matter as long as it's with you I'm with." I tell him. "But I get where you're coming from. The kitchen table is not exactly the most romantic place in the world."

"Thank you for understanding, Sam. And I feel the same way about you, but I just…I want more than this, for me, for you – for us." He says, giving me a sweet little kiss.

"I want it to be special too, Freddie, for our real first time." I confess.

"It's going to be, I promise you."

I believe him, and I know for sure this time it is going to be so much better. My heart is filled with love for him. There's no doubt left in my mind that he loves me and trusts me after everything we've been through together. It's impossible not to rely on him and allow him to rely on me. Although this moment is sweet, I still need something more. My carnal desires are unfulfilled, and my body is still hot and wet, begging for a release only he can give me.

"I know…but do you think you can…I still need…" I move my hips against his hand, gasping at the small friction this movement creates.

"Oh…" He chuckles. "I can do something about this."

He kisses me slow and sensually, deep and powerfully, moving his lips downwards to suck on my neck. I gasp and writhe underneath him, underneath his touch. His fingers work on me again, in and out of me. In no time, he has me moaning his name over and over, like a desperate prayer, and with a simple twitch of his knuckles, he makes me arch my back and grip the sides of the table.

"Freddie…oh Freddie…I love you…so much…oh god…oh!"

"I love you too, beautiful. Love you so much…you're the love of my life, Sam."

I cry out at his words, arch my back off the table and grind my hips frantically against his hand. He presses his lips against the skin above my neckline and I just know I need his lips on me...right there, right now. So I push his head down, trying to tell him without words that I want his lips and teeth closing around my nipples and his hands kneading my flesh.

"Sam…Sammy…" Freddie chuckles against my skin and lifts his head up to look at me. "Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."

"Do I have to say? Please don't make me beg for it…" I whine.

"Yes, baby, you'll have to voice it. I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you purr it into my ear."

"Ugh!" I groan and tug on his hair, pulling on his head until my lips reach his ear. "I want you to kiss my body. I want your lips on my breasts."

"Your wish is my command." He whispers.

Freddie tugs on the straps of my nightgown and pushes them down my shoulders. He lowers his head to kiss and suck the exposed skin of my chest while his fingers keep working on me. One of his hands has a tight grip on my breast, making my nipple a little puffed, then he wraps his sweet lips around it. I moan out loud, wondering why the hell I ever cried that night. I honestly can't imagine a better sensation than the pleasure he's giving me right now.

"Oh…baby…Freddie, please don't stop. Please, please!" I whine and moan, feeling so close already.

"Don't worry baby, I'll give you what you want and more."

I gasp and arch my back even further, making him take a little bit more of my breast inside his mouth. He uses his teeth to slightly scratch the tip of my nipple, and it's not hard enough to hurt, but it's enough to have me crying out his name. His mouth goes lower, and lower…down south, and I feel him hiking up my nightgown to nip and lick my belly button. With one of his hands, he tugs my underwear down my legs until they are hanging on one of my feet. Something about being here on the kitchen table with him all over me, giving me so much pleasure, feels deliciously wrong, but I don't feel embarrassed. He makes me feel so comfortable. The hell with decency and shame, I want to be consumed by this animal lust he's making me feel right now. No regrets, no doubts, just this liquid fire burning me from inside out. It's all that I want.

"Oh God…!" I gasp out.

I dig my nails into his shoulder blades, already feeling my legs shaking. His fingers then stop working on me, only to be replaced by his tongue, hot and wet, licking me up and down, inside-out. I let out a yelp so loud I'm afraid Brad will come bursting into our kitchen, but I just can't contain myself. I lift my hips up to grind them against his face, and he groans against me, making his tongue vibrate inside of my core.

"Freddie! Freddie…I'm going to…oh God!"

He doesn't reply, doesn't stop, just works his tongue on me harder and harder. With teeth and lips, he sucks on my mound of nerves, making my mind hazy, and when his fingers come back to me, I yell and tug on his hair, grinding his face against me even harder. The feeling, the sensation, the emotion, it's too much for me to take. I never knew sex could mean so much, feel so good, and being here with him only makes everything better. The love we feel for each other only makes everything else better.

"Ah!"

I cry out one more time when his long fingers hit a really sensitive place inside me. He keeps hitting me there until it's too much to take. Soon I'm arching my back off the table in an inhuman way and groaning like a wild, exotic, feral animal. He rides my orgasm out until there's nothing left, and my throat feels sore from all the screams and moans I let out. My body collapses against the table, unable to take any more of this sweet torture. I'm gasping, panting, and breathing like I've been running a marathon – like I've been drowning. And maybe I was, maybe I was drowning in _him_, and it feels so good that I would gladly die from it.

"Are you alright, love?" He asks me, his breath tickling my neck.

"I think I just died a little bit…"

He chuckles and kisses the very tip of my nose.

"I bet you're going to need some food now, huh?"

"Give me five minutes to breathe."

Freddie laughs, kisses me and when he leans forward, I feel his arousal against my thigh, and I curse myself for being so selfish.

"You want me to…do something about that…?" I offer.

My hand falls to his lap, over his crotch until I reach for him through his boxers. He lets out a low yelp, but wraps his hand around my wrist.

"You don't have to baby, not now, you're tired." He says, caressing my face.

"Not for this." I tell him with a smile. "I'd be glad to do that for you."

"You don't have to, seriously." He kisses me one more time, and helps me sit up. "Not now, but I'll take your offer some other time." He tells me with a smirk.

"As you wish, Mr. Benson."

Because of our little fun time on the table, the food got cold. Freddie heats it up for me as I lie against the table. I feel so exhausted and lazy that I don't fight him when he doesn't accept my offer to help with the dishes. We eat in the living room, sitting on the floor Indian style. It's when we're heading upstairs to take a shower that I realize my body still trembles from my previous orgasm, and I just can't wait to have him again. I just want to be with him, and this time for real.

* * *

><p>At about four o'clock we're lying on the couch, just waking up from an afternoon nap, and it's past lunch time. My head is on his chest and he has his arms wrapped around me, and it makes me feel so comfortable, so warm. It feels like home.<p>

While laying here in his arms I had a dream - one of my many dreams about us being a family. We already are, but something is missing – or rather, someone. I just can't help but want a baby, his baby – our baby. I know that we have to take things slowly, but not too slow because I do have to get pregnant within four months. But we just got back to each other, and I don't want to rush him into anything. Still, I can't help but wish, dream and want a little baby growing inside of me.

I never envisioned myself being a mother – I always thought it wasn't in the cards for me. I didn't want to have a stranger's baby, didn't want to be filled by someone I was so sure I was going to hate, because I didn't want to bring a child into the world like that. When I met Freddie and fell in love with him, I caught myself many times dreaming about having his babies.

It probably isn't a good idea, and if I wasn't forced to have a child within six months of marriage, I would choose to wait. The world we live in is not a bright and happy place where the sun shines and birds sing. It's a dangerous place where no kid should be forced to grow up in. Still, I keep finding myself wishing for it. I'd give and do anything to be able to have a normal family with Freddie, in a place where our kids could grow up and be allowed to make their own decisions. But unfortunately that is not in the cards for any of us.

"What are you thinking about, love?" He whispers, stroking my back.

"Just…us. I'm thinking about us." I reply.

"Good or bad?"

"Great." I lift my head to look at him. "Amazing."

"Perfect." He tells me before pressing his lips against mine. "Love you."

"Love you, too." I say.

I'm leaning forward to kiss him again when we hear a siren. It's so loud it hurts my ears. In no time Freddie gets up and has me sheltered behind him like he always does. I have no idea what's going on and for a moment I think Frank Ellis is here to destroy my happiness. I prepare myself to fight, because if he even tries to keep me and Freddie apart, I'll kill the motherfucker.

_Ladies and gentlemen, please direct yourselves to the town square._ _I repeat. Ladies and gentlemen, please direct yourselves to the town square._

A woman's voice announces and I feel Freddie taking my hand in his. His grip is tight as he intertwines our fingers. My heart is beating so fast thinking that Visualize is going to punish us because of what happened with Ellis. But if they were, why call everyone to the town square? Maybe they want to give us our punishment in front of everyone, to set an example. My heart is threatening to rip out of my chest, but I follow Freddie cautiously out the door.

Every other couple in our neighborhood is walking on the same path as us. Most of them seem as agitated, tense, and freaked out as me, and that is my only consolation – I'm not alone in this, whatever this is. I spot Gibby and Wendy clutching onto each other for dear life, but there's no sign of Brad and Carly. My chest aches, because I don't want anything bad to happen to them – especially to Carly. I've watched many forms of cruelty in this lifetime, but hurting a pregnant woman would be the worst kind. I only hope Brad can protect her from them – protect himself.

"Everything will be okay." Freddie whispers to me. "I won't let anyone hurt you, you know that right?"

"I know, baby. And I won't let anyone hurt you, either."

"I know that." He kisses my temple and we keep walking.

When we reach the entrance of the town square, I can see a giant monitor or whatever the hell they call that thing. It's currently off, but I have a feeling I know what I'll be seeing. Bellow the screen there's a stage where I spot three chairs – two mediums and one big. Everybody approaches the stage carefully, not wanting to take any chances. Once we're all in front of it, lining up by couple side by side, a tall man in a suit walks onto the stage and takes the medium chair on the left. Another man with brown hair and fading brown eyes takes the second medium chair.

I grip Freddie's arm very tightly. I don't know if I'm prepared for whatever happens today, but I have to be. If I can just be strong again like I used to be, maybe I'll be more useful. Controlling my emotions, I focus my eyes on the stage where the two men sit proudly. They don't say or do anything, and that gives me time to find Carly and Brad who are sitting on chairs beside the stage, their fronts to the men in suits.

Even from afar I can see Carly gripping tightly onto Brad's hand, and by his position I can tell he's tensed and ready for anything. Maybe he doesn't know what's about to happen, or maybe he does and that's why he's nervous. His eyes find Freddie's in the crowd, and he gives his best friend a reassuring nod. I know that Brad wants everything to be okay and under control, but he can't promise us anything. I also know that if it came down to it, he would have Freddie's back no matter what, but I'm sure Freddie wouldn't want to put his and Carly's lives in any danger.

Finally they turn on the monitor, presenting us the symbol of Visualize that gyrates in the center proudly. That is when a fat man in a white suit comes onto the stage carrying a microphone. He's older than the other two men, and I'm pretty sure his hair should be gray, but it's a weird shade of auburn. His hair is long, tangled up in a braid that doesn't match with his clothes and face. He clears his throat and smiles into the microphone.

"Who is this?" I whisper to Freddie.

"The president of Visualize. The guy by his right is the chef of security, and the other one is the representative of our area, some sort of mayor." He whispers his reply.

"What does he want?"

"I have no idea. He usually doesn't go out in public all that much…"

Freddie stops talking when the man clears his throat one more time. I can see the Visualize's guards everywhere around us, watching our every move, and my stomach churns unpleasantly.

"First of all, good afternoon fellow citizens."

His voice is husky, but not in a good way like Freddie's, it's more…toxic. He smiles all the time, looking very sympathetic and I can tell it's somewhat genuine. I know a fake smile when I see one – I have many of them, a collection of them.

"Many of you must be wondering why we didn't come forward after some…really unfortunate events, and well, we're here now to ease your minds, my dear brothers and sisters. But before I can say anything, I just want to show you a little film so we can all be reminded of how we got here, and never forget to thank God for what we have."

The town square light's are turned off when the movie begins. It's exactly thirty agonizing minutes reminding us of the war and everything bad that happened to us. I watch some people cry and sob over the images they make us watch – the deaths, the destruction, the fragments of a war that scarred us all. I watch as Freddie's face hardens, and I'm so afraid he's going to have a breakdown right there and then, but he doesn't. He keeps quiet during the whole thing, holding onto my hand and keeping me close.

When the movie is over I realize what the point of showing us this was; they want us to see what happened again to make us emotionally weak and disturbed. Scared people are easier to manipulate. Everyone around me looks scared, sad or just really angry, and I have a feeling this is exactly what they wanted to happen. The memories of the war are still very fresh to most of us. Most people here lost everything in this war – being reminded of this is torture.

"It's really sad what humanity is capable of doing when God is not present in their lives." The man says, shaking his head and sighing. "But thankfully God was still present in our hearts when we created Visualize to save the rest of us, brothers and sisters. Because we were able to rise from the ashes with a simple goal: create a better world, a better future. Now, what happened to our sister Celina was unfortunate, but that is what happens when you don't follow the conduct correctly. That's why the laws are created, to guarantee us a better way of life. If we live out of control, we're just going to go back to that." He points to the image of a murdered child frozen on the screen, and my free hand turns into a fist ready for punching.

This is psychological torture, and they have no right to manipulate us like this! I just keep forgetting that they don't really care about that.

"Our dear sister Celina didn't follow the rules, didn't attend church, she didn't respect our way of life and how hard we all worked to get peace." He shakes his head. "And that's why it is important to reminds us of how far we've come, fellow citizens, because regression is only going to be prejudicial for us all. Now I don't want you to see me as 'The President of Visualize,' but a friend who is working right to keep our nation together. We all make mistakes, that's true, but brothers and sisters, Visualize works for your benefit, and with your trust we can guarantee a better future. Now, let's take a look at the work we've been doing together to help us reach the ultimate state of peace and remind ourselves where we are and where we used to be."

This time he plays a different video where houses are being built and people are being taken care of. It shows Visualize people helping kids, feeding people, carrying for the elderly. It shows the small progress we've made ever since they stepped in - the jobs, the rebuilt hospitals, and security. Even I have to admit it's pretty well represented, especially with the narrator being a woman with a soothing voice.

_It's important to remember that God has given us a second chance to make a better future, _she says.

Suddenly I hear a voice that I know very well, and I feel Freddie tensing up by my side. It's him – he's on screen. It's a montage of our interview with Frank Ellis.

_"I love my wife very much." Freddie says with a smile, and he leans closer to me as he does._ _"I'm very thankful that Visualize brought her to me. They did a wonderful job, and I couldn't be happier."_

Other couples smile on the screen, saying how happy they are and how much they owe that to Visualize, Brad and Carly included, along with Gibby and Wendy – the only ones who looks genuinely willing to tell their story to the camera. Many couples thank Visualize for their happiness on screen and suddenly, I'm seeing myself up there too.

_"I believe love comes with time, and it takes hard work to build up a relationship, but it's always worth it." _My onscreen self forces a smile to the camera.

_It's important to dedicate yourselves and put all our efforts into our beliefs, _the narrator says.

"_I think Visualize will always make sure to choose the best mates for everyone." _I say.

"_Visualize is the best way to live." _A random couple says, and another and another and another.

The screen is divided in little frames, with more than twenty couples, Carly and Brad, Gibby and Wendy included, all of them saying '_thank you, Visualize,' _in unison. And last but not least, me and Freddie, alone with the whole screen to ourselves.

"_We believe in Visualize." _We say.

The screen goes off and the lights comes back on. Freddie's jaw is clenched and I can tell he feels used. I rub the back of his hand and whisper how much I love him into his ear. Hopefully this will ease his tension.

"Now, brothers and sisters, as you can see, Visualize works for the benefit of the nation, all we need and want is your love and dedication to help us make a better future. Next time we have a problem, let's remember the long path we walked, and how we once were punished for walking out of line. We can all make a better future if we just believe. Now, I'm not going to take up any more of your time. It's dinner time after all and you must be hungry, I know I am." He laughs.

"Anyway, I wish you all a goodnight, and whoever wants to volunteer to our join or Peace Forces, just direct yourselves behind the stage and apply. Thank you all dear brothers and sisters and goodnight."

I breathe out for a moment, watching some young men walking behind the stage – they obviously don't know what they're doing. Freddie turns to me, holding my hand as he beings to walk as fast as he can. But before we can leave the town square, Frank Ellis appears in front of us, still wearing a turtleneck.

"Oh, hello there Mr. and Mrs. Benson." He says with that smug smile that makes me want to gag.

"What do you want?" I hiss. "Leave us alone or else you'll have to deal with my fist!"

"But I'm not here to cause any trouble, my dear Sam."

"Then what you want?" Freddie growls.

"I'm just working." He shrugs. "Aren't you happy, Freddie, that you were able to keep your dear little Samantha?"

"I swear to god, Ellis…" Freddie barks, but goes quiet when the president appears right behind Ellis.

"So, you two are the infamous Bensons?" He offers Freddie his right hand. "Antony Wells, nice to meet you, Freddie Benson."

Freddie swallows dryly, but shakes the man's hand anyway.

"Nice to meet you, sir." He says.

"Oh, please, call me Antony. I'm aware of what you've done for this country in the war, Freddie, and for a hero, I go by my first name." He says with a smile. "Now, this must be your lovely young wife…?"

"Samantha." Frank Ellis says.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am."

He takes my hand before I can offer and delivers a quick kiss on the back of it. I can feel Freddie tensing next to me, and for a moment I'm scared of what he might do.

"I have to confess that of all the videos I've seen, yours was the best. You just had the face and the attitude to be the stars of this commercial. I hope you don't mind us using your images. We're just working to have a television with productive shows on every house in this town, and we would like to use this commercial as the official advertisement for Visualize. Think of it as a trade. A favor you're doing for us in exchange for…you know, forgetting about that heinous incident that happened a few days ago."

I take in a deep breath, my whole body shaking, but then Freddie opens his mouth before I can faint or something.

"We'd be honored, sir." He says with a smile.

What the hell is he doing?

"Oh well, that's very good to know!" Wells puts his arm around Freddie's shoulders. "That's the spirit son. You would make a great politician, you know."

"Oh, please sir, I'm just an ordinary engineer." Freddie says with false humbleness.

"But ordinary people make the best leaders!" He exclaims. "Anyway, Freddie, I'll let you take your lovely wife home now. I'm sure you have better things to do than stay here talking to this boring old man."

"Please, sir, that's not true." He says, charming and endearing. "I'm honored."

"You're a very polite young man." He then turns to Ellis, and says: "I like him."

"Yeah sure, sir." Is all Ellis can say.

"I guarantee you our deal will be successful. Now remember, I'm here as a friend of the people, so call me if you need anything. Have a good night Freddie, Samantha." He kisses my hand again, shaking Freddie's own hand just before he leaves.

"Playing dirty now huh, Benson?" Ellis says angrily.

"I'm just following your lead, Ellis. Two can play this game, you know, and it seems to me I have the head start."

Freddie walks away, and I follow him back to our house. He walks really fast, almost making me have to run after him. I want to yell at him for allowing that man to use our image for his twisted, sick, commercial, but I can't do this in the middle of the street. I don't want to take any chances ever again.

He closes and locks the door behind us, wrapping his arms around me and spinning me around.

"Freddie! Freddie, what the hell?" I say.

He puts me on the ground, taking my face between his hands and kissing me passionately as if he hasn't seen me in weeks. It's really hard to be angry at him when he's kissing me with so much love, but I haven't forgotten what he did. When we pull away, he envelopes me in a tight hug and smiles against my neck.

"Freddie! Why the hell did you tell him it was okay to use us like that?" I bark, pushing him away.

"Don't you see, Sam? Don't you understand what that means?" He says eagerly.

"Yes! It means we'll be one more piece in their sick games!"

"That is a small price to pay. What I meant was…we're going to be the face of Visualize."

"And that's good because…?"

"You and I together will represent everything Visualize stands for. If anyone ever tries to separate us, Visualize will go down with us, and they can't have that." He smiles and takes my face in his hands again. "Their image will be tainted and their credibility will be lost. Don't you see? This is our guarantee-"

"-That we'll be able to be together…" I whisper. "Now, no one can touch us. No one can tear us apart."

"Yes, Sam. This means we'll be together!" He hugs me again, burying his face in my hair. "We're out of danger, love. We're safe."

"We are…we are safe." I whisper.

That night I go to bed whispering to myself that the price to pay is insignificant. If it means I get to keep Freddie forever, the price doesn't matter.

Maybe if I tell myself this enough times I'll eventually believe it.

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><p><em>AN: Hey guys! So I hope you liked this chapter, and just let me tell you that after next chapter we're going to have some serious lemons, so if you're a child and or just don't like it, well, skip the part! They are going to be pretty detailed... Anyway, I just want to thank you guys for the reviews, and say to whoever said Niam was the right OTP… bitch please, they don't have nearly as much chemistry as Ziam. Anyway…_

_**Edited by clarksonfan**_

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><p><em>One Direction – More Than This (Yeah, I like 1D, no shame to say that I'm in love with 5 homosexuals that are not really homosexuals! But mostly, I'm just really in love with Liam Payne… oh god I love him! And his perfect (romance) bromance with Zayn Malik. Yeah Zayn, I know you're in love with Liam.)<em>


	27. Slow Dancing In A Burning Room

_**Genre:**__ Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, I would name it iSam because she is awesome!_

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OOC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

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><p><strong>Lemony chapter – you've been warned.<strong>

**Oh, and just let me give you an advice, you should read the lemon part listening to Ed Sheeran's **_**Kiss Me **_**because it's the perfect soundtrack for this scenario. Just a suggestion, but you won't be sorry!**

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><p>Freddie was very ecstatic on the Monday he was to go back work. It's been almost two weeks since he was out of the hospital and he couldn't wait to go back to work and do something productive with his time. Now that the situation with Sam was solved and the danger Frank Ellis used to represent was no longer an issue, he was free to just breathe. Even though he felt like he could touch the sky, Dr. John refused to take him off his meds, making Freddie feel a little bit undeserving of trust, but he doesn't let that affect his good mood.<p>

Sam is already up making breakfast when he walks into the kitchen. She greets him with a slow, long, kiss and he sits at the table. Smiling, he watches as she makes coffee and puts a plate of waffles in front of him.

"Here, syrup and honey." She gives him the bottles and a quick kiss. "Are you excited to go back to work today?"

"Yeah, so much. I hate sitting around the house feeling useless." He whines.

"You're not useless baby. You changed the light bulb in the living room, cleaned the chimney, fixed that annoying noisy step and changed the pipe under the kitchen sink." She reminds him.

"Yeah, but, that's nothing compared to my work. I'm dying to go back to my office, see my colleagues and work on some real stuff." He says, taking a bite of his egg.

"Okay, I get it." Sam joins him at the table, taking a sip of her orange juice. "You'll be home in time for dinner right?"

"Always, beautiful."

Freddie reaches across the table to give his wife a quick, sweet kiss.

"Mmm…you taste like ham. I love it." He whispers against her lips, making Sam chuckle.

"You taste pretty good yourself, Mr. Benson." She says, kissing him one more time. "Syrup. I like it."

Freddie chuckles and kisses the back of her hand before returning to his breakfast. Following their new morning routine, they wash the dishes together and Freddie can't help but smile at the irony of the situation. On Sam's very first week at the house, they used to fight a lot about who was going to do the dishes. She didn't want any help, and didn't need anyone doing anything for her, and he just wanted to be polite and save her the trouble of getting her hands dirty. And now, here they stood, doing it together.

Although the happiness he feels overwhelms him, Freddie still can't help but notice something different about Sam. After everything they've been through, he wondered if there was something he was missing – something she was keeping to herself. He hated to have to burst his perfect, happy, bubble, but they did promise no more secrets and lies, and that was the least she could do for him – tell him the truth.

"Sam." Freddie said when she finished drying the last dish.

"Yes?" he held both her hands in his and took a step closer to her.

"What's wrong, baby? I know there's something on your mind, so please share it with me. Please?"

She sighed, and walked into his embrace, snuggling against his chest.

"I'm just…ugh, how can I say this?" She whispers to herself.

"You can tell me anything, anything at all. What is going through your mind, baby?" He whispers softly, rubbing circles on her back.

She pulls away slightly to look at him and kisses him hard on the lips.

"There's going to be a commercial with my face in it going around very soon, and I don't like that."

"I know." He says. "But we're not the only ones in it, remember? We can always share the shame and embarrassment with Carly and Brad, Wendy and Gibby."

"True." She laughs. "I guess I'm just going to have to get used to it, right?"

"Baby, I'm not happy about it either, but this means we're going to be together, Sam. No one can keep us apart. Aren't you happy about that?"

"Yes, I'm very happy!" She exclaims. "I'm really happy to be able to just relax. I hate always feeling like someone is trying to harm us. It's really good to have some relief, but it's just…"

"You feel used."

"A little." She confesses.

"Me too, Sam, me too, but if it means I get to keep you, then to hell with the price. I'll do as many commercials as they want me to do." He says, kissing the side of her nose. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

She kisses him with passion, pressing herself against him, letting her tongue play at the edge of his mouth. Freddie presses her against the counter, one of his hands on her thigh and the other tangled in her hair. Sam moans into his mouth, hooking one of her legs around his hip, trapping him, bringing him even closer. He lowers his lips to her neck, careful not to leave any marks – she also has to go to work. Sam gasps when his tongue reaches her collarbone and tugs on his hair with a moan.

"Oh…baby…" She purrs into his ear.

Freddie opens two buttons of her uniform so that he's able to kiss down her chest. She throws her head back, telling him how much she loves his lips and Freddie grips her waist, lifting her up and sitting her over the counter.

"Shit, Sam!" He hisses when her hand finds him over his trousers.

"I want you so bad." She moans into his ear.

"God…ugh…I want you too…so much." He stammers, losing himself in the feeling of her hand stroking him. "Damn…that feels so good!"

With her free hand, Sam tugs his head up and attacks his lips. Freddie's hand slides to the back of her knees, and he pulls her closer. Sam grinds her hips against his, her lips on his neck, sucking, biting and softly kissing his tanned skin as he groans.

"Anybody home…? Oh Jesus! My eyes!" Brad yells, covering his eyes with his hand.

"Oh!" Carly says, hiding behind Brad.

"Shit!" Sam hisses.

Freddie helps a very embarrassed Sam off the counter and on her feet as she hides behind him. Brad opens his eyes and looks pointedly at Freddie's pants, making his friend trade places with Sam. Sam squeaks at first when they trade places as he pokes her bottom, and then goes back to blushing hard.

"Are they decent?" Carly asks, still hiding behind Brad.

"I don't know…are you Freddie?" He teases.

"Shut up!" Freddie growls. "Get out of here, go wait in the living room or something!"

"Alright, alright, you don't have to be so hard about it." Brad chuckles, moving to the side when Freddie throws an orange at him. "Are you trying to poke a whole into my head?" He laughs.

"Get your ass out of here Brad! Damn it!" Freddie growls.

"Alright, okay man, relax. I get it, you'd much rather shove your balls at someone else!" He chuckles.

"I swear to god!" Freddie threatens.

"Brad, stop it! Come on!" Carly drags her laughing husband out of the kitchen and into the living room.

"Oh God…don't these people know what a doorbell is?" Sam groans, hiding her face in her hands.

"I'm sorry baby."

Freddie kisses the top of her head and goes to the sink to throw some cold water on his face. Sam does the same, but that doesn't ease the blush away from her face. She sighs and tries to look presentable, even though she wishes she could murder Brad and Carly for interrupting her moment with Freddie. She wants to be with him more than anything, and now that things seem to have calmed down, there's nothing in the whole world she wants more than to be connected with him that way.

"Let's find out what they want and get this over with." He says, taking a hold of her hand.

"All right."

_Tonight, _she thinks. _Tonight I'll finally be his._

Freddie walks her into the living room where Brad and Carly sit on their couch. Brad chuckles when he sees his best friend, but stops when Sam glares at him. Carly takes a hold of Brad's hand when Sam and Freddie finally join them.

"So, watcha want?" Freddie asks.

"Ouch!" Brad puts his hand over his chest, faking hurt. "Can't a friend visit another friend?"

"No. Spit it out, Brad. No offense, Carly."

"Non taken." She replies. "I told him to knock on the door!"

"Okay, blame it on me. But I wasn't the one going at it like two rabbits in the middle of the kitchen." He mocks.

"We weren't going at it like rabbits!" Sam objects.

"Yeah, barely." Brad retorts.

"Anyway…" Carly interrupts, "we're here because we want to talk to you guys about something."

"What about?" Sam questions suspiciously.

"You know that I'm pregnant…" Carly starts.

"Yes…and…?" It's Freddie's turn to get suspicious.

"And it would mean the world to us if you would be our baby's godparents." Brad spits out.

Freddie's eyes go wide. He never, ever, thought about being a godparent. Sure, he knew Carly was pregnant and that Brad was going to be a dad soon, but he never expected to be a godparent to their kid. Being a godparent is a real responsibility, almost like being a parent – because if something happened to Brad and Carly, he would have to be responsible for their kid, and he didn't know if he was ready for that. Still, he couldn't refuse the offer. Brad was his best friend, he took care of him when he needed and they were family. He just couldn't say no.

"Oh…are you sure?" Sam asks.

"Yes. You two are our closest friends, and there is no one else in the world I'd trust to take care of my baby if something bad happened to me and Brad." Carly says.

"Wow…Carly…I…"

Sam has a hard time finding words. She never thought about this. Sure, she thought about having her own kids when the time came, but this was something else entirely. Still, why would she refuse? It was a great honor that Carly would even consider her and Freddie for this. They weren't exactly role models for any kid, and the fact that Carly trusted them with that meant a lot to Sam. Nobody ever believed in her, even as a child. People just knew she wasn't going anywhere without giving her a chance to prove herself. This was something she wasn't prepared to hear, and yet, it made her eyes start to tear up.

"I don't know…" Freddie starts. "We're not exactly the most stable people in the world, you know that right?"

"We do, but who really is these days?" Brad says.

"You really want us to be godparents?" Sam asks.

"Yes, Sam, we do." Carly says.

"What do you think, baby?" She asks Freddie.

"I uh…what do you want to do?"

"You don't have to answer right now." Brad says. "Take your time and think about it, whenever you feel ready, you can answer us. Just don't wait until the baby is here."

"We can do that." Sam chuckles.

"Anyway, we're not going to take any more of your time." Carly stands up, fixing her dress and Brad follows her.

"Yeah, we'll let you go back to the kitchen counter now." Brad chuckles.

"Shut up!" Freddie shoves his friend out the door.

Freddie closes the door behind him, leaning against it and taking Sam with him in a loose hug. She buries her face in his neck for a while, just for the sake of being close to him. Neither of them speaks as they stand there in each other's arms, but words were not necessary at the moment. Freddie kisses the top of her head, hating to pull away, but he couldn't be late for his first day back at work.

"What do you want to do?" He asks.

"Can we not talk about that right now?" She whispers. "I just don't want to think about that for a while."

"Okay, love. Whenever you want, then."

He pulls away, holding her face in his hands to kiss her softly. Sam sighs and touches her forehead to his.

"We have to go to work." She whispers.

"Ugh, I know! I wish I could stay here with you forever."

"I thought you were happy to go back to work." She smiles, kissing the corners of his mouth.

"Just changed my mind."

"Too bad you have to go." She says, pulling away from his embrace. "Come on, we don't want to be late."

"Ugh! No me gusta!" He whines, walking back into the living room to get his jacket.

"What?"

"Nothing baby, I just said I don't like that."

"Oh…you and your random weird languages." She giggles.

"Hey, it's not weird, it's Spanish!"

"Let's just go, Freddie."

Sam grabs him by the hand, dragging him outside to the car. As he drives her to work, Sam thinks about Carly's offer, but one glance at him and her mind goes back to the kitchen counter, where she wanted him to take her so badly. Making up her mind, she decides tonight is the right night to be connected to him, to be as close as possible to the man she loves. But he wants it to be special, so she would make it special enough for both of them. All she needed was to leave work a little early, and a few bucks to make it happen.

_Tonight I'll finally be his._

* * *

><p>Freddie undoes his tie as he closes the door behind him. His first day back at work certainly paid off. He missed his job, missed his office, his desk, his responsibilities, and more than anything, he missed having his mind occupied with something productive. But, what he missed the most right now was his perfect, gorgeous wife. He spent the whole day thinking about her, almost unable to concentrate on anything else. Things between them were heating up lately, and he couldn't lie and say he didn't like that.<p>

Truth is, he wanted to take her, to have her all to himself anytime he laid eyes on her. If Brad hadn't show up this morning, he might have forgotten about his reasoning and possessed her over the kitchen counter. But that wasn't how he wanted their first time to be – he wasn't counting that night as their first time. And the best of it all was that Sam also wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He couldn't wait to feel her around him, underneath him, on top of him – all over him.

"Honey! I'm home!" He calls out, unbuttoning the first button of his shirt.

"Hey baby."

Sam comes out of the kitchen, wearing a cute white summer dress, and gives him a sweet little kiss.

"Hey gorgeous…"

Freddie grabs her by the wrist and pulls her close, deepening the kiss and wrapping his arms around her waist. Sam gasps, feeling his tongue asking for permission to enter her mouth, and she grants him in with a moan. It's incredible how a simple kiss can make her feel hot all over. If this, and only this, makes her knees week, imagine what he can do to her when he is…_oh god...control yourself Sam! Be strong!_

"Mmmm…I missed you." He whispers in her ear.

"I missed you too, baby…" She whimpers, feeling his lips on her neck.

He kisses her with more force and passion, pressing her against the wall. Sam gasps and wraps her legs around his waist, grinding her hips against his. He moans against her neck and thrusts his hips into hers, making Sam cry out his name. She tugs on his hair and yanks his head back, her mouth crashing down to his in a violent kiss. Freddie groans, feeling his pants becoming too tight for him as he presses against her, loving the friction, needing the friction. His hands find her breasts and he squeezes them relentlessly. She moans against his lips and throws her head back, breaking the kiss.

"I love you so much…need you so much…want you so much…" He keeps whispering.

"Oh Freddie…Freddie, I love you so much…oh God!" She digs her nails into his shirt, moaning out loud.

"Damn, Sam, you drive me crazy!" He growls.

He kisses and sucks on her neck, thrusting his hips against hers until it's almost too much for him to take. He tugs on his belt, trying to unbuckle it, not even considering where they are. He just needs her and he needs her so bad it hurts. It actually hurts so much that his slacks are cutting off his circulation. Sam realizes what they're doing and she pulls back, holding his face in her hands. She loves to be able to make him lose his mind, forget his reasoning, drive him insane, but she has so much already prepared for this night – she's not about to let her carnal desires ruin a perfect, romantic night she spent all afternoon planning.

"Mmm, Freddie…dinner is ready…" She says, untangling her legs from his waist and pushing him away slightly.

"Oh…okay." He pulls away after giving her one last, lingering kiss. "Okay."

"Why don't you…uh…go and uh…" she clears her throat, and brushes her hair with her fingers."Take a shower…?"

"Yeah…uh, sure…yeah…I'll go…do that."

Freddie hesitates for a moment before nodding and going upstairs to take a long, cold shower. After he's out of sight, Sam sighs and leans against wall, trying to control her breathing and running her fingers through her hair.

"Damn!" She whispers to herself.

Freddie enters their bedroom, cursing himself the whole time. _Damn it! Am I not able to control myself? Of course I'm not! _He slips off his clothes and walks into the shower, expecting to relax his mind and body so he'll be able to go through dinner without attacking Sam. He wants her badly, more than anything, and lately it is getting harder and harder to hold back, especially when she grinds against him that way. But he is waiting for the right time, waiting for her to say it's the right time – even though she already said it before. He just wants her to be sure, Freddie doesn't want to hear her begging for him to take her over the kitchen table, not for their _first time_ anyway.

He needs everything to be perfect, and needs her to know that she wants to be with him because she loves him, and not because she's needy, not because she has an ulterior motive. So far, she hadn't asked him to take her again, and he would never do anything she doesn't feel comfortable with. He would never hurt her or pressure her, he just waits and hopes she will make up her mind soon – or he might as well implode.

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><p>Sam quickly prepares the living room, laying a comfy comforter on the floor with pillows and starting the fire. She wants him to be awestruck, surprised with her ability to be romantic. She wasn't actually that tomboyish, she actually could behave like a romantic wife every now and then and she wanted him to know that. He would be the only one allowed to know that, to see this side of her, to know all her secrets – only him and no one else.<p>

"So…I'm here." He says, climbing down the stairs, a little embarrassed still.

She chuckles and opens her arms to him, offering a warm embrace that he accepts willingly. He kisses her neck lovingly, breathing in the scent of her. Sam pulls back and kisses him, soft and sweet, watching as Freddie slowly opens his eyes.

"Love you…" She says.

"Love you, too." He replies.

"Let's go, love. Let's have dinner." She grabs him by the hand and drags him to the living room. "How was your first day back to work?"

"Uh…nice, I'm just glad to be back." He says a little confused. "We always eat in the kitchen…"

"Tonight is a special night." She says, pulling up a chair for him.

"Alright…what's special about tonight?" He chuckles.

"You'll see." She says, walking back to the kitchen.

Freddie sits and waits until Sam is back from the kitchen. She's holding a tray that smells so good, he just wants to drown in it. She places the trade in front of him, and lights up two candles. He gives her a quizzical look, asking for an explanation, but she just kisses him instead.

"Oh…is that lasagna?" He asks, eager like a little boy.

"Yes, it is…and this…" She says, walking back into the kitchen "is your favorite wine."

"Baby…what did you do all this for?"

"I told you it's a special night. Now stop asking questions and have dinner with me."

They talk about his day, what he did, and how happy he was to just go back to work. He tells Sam how his colleagues welcomed him with a surprise party, and that he would've brought her some cake but his friend Greg ate it all. Freddie chuckles and almost chokes when Sam tells him about this rude costumer that fell on her ass just outside the bakery. The nasty, rude woman slipped outside in a pool of mud, falling with her fat ass on the ground.

By the time they finish dinner, Sam had the rest of the lasagna in the fridge, and Freddie was finishing the dishes. She comes from behind him, wraps her arms around his waist and kisses his neck, pressing her firm breasts against his back. Freddie groans when her hand lowers to his stomach, roams over his belt buckle and finds him there, giving his pack a firm squeeze. She takes his earlobe between her teeth, sucking on it gently, taking pleasure in how it makes her husband growl.

"Sam." He moans. "Are you trying to kill me? What are you doing?"

"Leave the dishes, Freddie…let's go to the living room for desert." She purrs sensually in his ear.

"Okay…" He says, dumbfounded, letting go of the last dish to follow her into the living room.

His palms start to sweat and he gulps when the soft light of the fireplace is in his sight. It feels like the first time he ever had sex, and he feels so nervous and inexpedient, even though he's not new to this. But this time is different, unlike the other times he has been with a woman, unlike the first time he was with Sam. This time, he's so sure she's doing this because she loves him. He just knows this is for love and that there are no second agendas behind it.

Now that he thought about it, he never used sex as a mean to express his feelings. He never thought it was a manifest of love. Mainly, it was just something he did to get release, something that made him feel good, made his body satisfied. But this experience he was about to share with Sam means so much more. It means everything.

What they feel for each other is real, and no matter what happens, that feeling will always be stronger than fear, hate, disappointment and any other issue they might have to face. Because even if they are different, have different opinions and backgrounds, the love they share is the same – he loves her just like she loves him, and vice-versa.

Even when she tries to be seductive and behave like she knows what's she's doing, Sam's hands shake with nervousness and a little bit of embarrassment. She never had to seduce anyone, she never had the urge to make a man want her so bad it might drive him crazy, but then again, she never wanted anyone the way she wants Freddie.

It is incredible how he can make her sweet on the outside and hot on the inside with only one touch of his lips. He always makes her feel so good, like nothing else in the world can compare, and she just wants to be able to do the same for him. The hell with her nerves going crazy inside her mind, she wants and needs to be this close to him, connected to him in a way she never wants to be connected to anyone else.

But she also wants him to want her desperately. She wants him to think she's sexy and seductive, wants him to want her and no one else. She wants to be the one and only one that will give him this kind of pleasure, she wants to be the able to top any of those women he has been with before, although she had no idea of how she was going to do that. So, later that morning, a very reluctant and unpleased Sam, went looking for help.

She couldn't ask Carly that kind of thing, because she knew her good friend didn't seem like the seductive type, and Wendy was out of the question, since they weren't so close. The only person who could hold that kind of conversation and actually give her some sincere advice was Toby. Sure, the conversation was a living hell, and started with Toby calling her a _slutty dirty whore_, but in the end, she did have some advice to give once she didn't seem to know what decency was.

_You have to be sexy and seduce him. Behave the opposite of how you normally would. Just put on some slutty lingerie, grab some strawberries and chocolate, and use them to drive him insane with lust. Just pretend you're not nervous and behave like a whore, _she said, _men happen to love that._

"So?" He starts, a little nervous on the outside, freaking out on the inside.

"So…we should sit." She says, trying to keep her voice calm and collected.

"Okay."

They remove their shoes and sit over the comforter, Freddie leaning against the arm of the couch, and Sam across from him. She reaches for the coffee table and gets the jar of strawberries and a bowl of chocolate she put there later on.

"Strawberries and chocolate?" He asks.

"Desert."

"Oh…"

She chooses the juiciest strawberry of the bunch, dips it in chocolate, and leans forward, pressing it gently against Freddie's lips until he parts them. Sam watches as he chews, his eyes so dark and deep, never leaving hers. After he gulps, she uses her pointer finger to clean the corners of his mouth, and then puts it between her own lips and sucks it clean. Sam smirks when he gulps, satisfied with her successful techniques of seduction. Truth be told, she had absolutely no idea what she was doing, but she remembered when he licked of her juices from his fingers, and how sexy he looked, so she thought that it may have same effect on him.

_Just behave the opposite of how you would normally would._

Freddie sighs, feeling his inside burning up with desire, but his mind is curious and little bit confused all the same. He knows she's trying to be sexy and seductive, but what she doesn't know is that she doesn't need to be like this, he actually prefers the _I-don't-know-how-to-do-this-and-I'm-afraid-to-admit-it_ Sam than this sexy stranger sitting in front of him – as weird as it sounds. So he leans forward and cups her face with one hand, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

"Sam…" He whispers.

"Yes, Freddie?" She asks, taking a bite of strawberry after licking the chocolate off the tip.

"What are you doing?" He questions.

"I'm just eating." She says with a pout, dipping her finger into the chocolate bowl and sucking on it.

"Sam…you don't have to behave like this, baby."

"Like what?"

"Like…I don't know…unlike you."

"I…I'm just…ugh!" She sighs, abandoning the jar of strawberries on the coffee table. "Look, clearly I don't know how to do this thing…I just…"

"I love you." He says, low and sweet. "I love you and want you. _You _Sam, and no one else. I don't want some sexy stranger that looks like a nymphomaniac. I want my beautiful, fiercely strong and sweet on the inside wife."

"What's a nymphomaniac?"

"Never mind." He chuckles. "Just be yourself with me. That is all that I want, all I ever wanted."

"Ugh. I'm sorry." She says, frustrated with herself. "I just…I was trying to be sexy and seductive because I thought that would make you…I don't know, I just thought you would like that."

"No, baby…" he smiles, "this is not what I want. You being nothing but yourself happens to be the sexiest thing ever!"

"Bullshit." She says, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Bulltrue." He chuckles. "Haven't you noticed how much I want you every time we kiss, every time we're together? Haven't you…felt it?" He raises his eyebrow suggestively.

"Well…it's hard not to." She smirks, looking down at his lap.

"And you know very well what causes this, don't you?" He says, bringing her to his lap.

"I think I have an idea." She says before straddling his thighs and kissing him on the lips. "I was just trying…I wanted to be better than those other women you've been with before." She confesses.

"Sam…" He takes her face in his hands, locking eyes with her. "Those women never meant as much as you do to me. What I feel for you is different. Fuck, being with them would never hold a candle against what I feel for you. Holding your hand, hugging you, just holding you in my arms is better than any sex I ever had before, because this is love. This is the most overwhelming and powerful feeling in the world, nothing can compare to how much I love you. Nothing."

A small grin appears on her face before she kisses him deeply. Freddie pulls her close and kisses her with the right amount of passion to show her how much he wants her, but not enough to rush things. He wants more than anything for this night to be endless, to be slow and sweet. He wants to teach her, show her, that she is the sexiest woman in the world to him and just how much she means to him. He wants to show her with his love that no one else matters to him – not in the way she does.

Sam lets out a small moan when he kissed down her neck to her collarbone, holding his head right there. Freddie pushes her dress and the strap of her bra to the side so he can kiss her shoulder, raking his teeth over her skin and making her gasp. One of his hands is open on her back, holding her against him and the other runs across her thigh, stomach and ribs until he finds her breast and squeezes it. Sam groans and throws her head back, feeling him growing between her thighs. He wasn't lying. He wants her, he wants her so bad and she can feel it. His arousal triggers something within her, making her claw at his shirt, almost tearing it apart when he doesn't move fast enough to remove it.

"Hey…" He grabs her writs, kissing her knuckles. "We don't have to rush anything. We have all night. I want to be with you all night."

"I just…want you so much." She pants, moving her hips against his.

"Me too, baby. I want to be inside you all night long."

She moans, crashing her lips against his, making Freddie stumble backwards a little bit. He holds her by the hips while she removes his shirt, roaming her hands all over his chest and back. She does the same thing she did the first night they were together - she kisses his scars, giving each one of them special treatment and by the time she has him lying on his back over the comforter, Freddie is so hard it hurts.

"Baby…these pants…they're killing me." He groans, feeling her tongue dipping into his navel. "You have to remove them or else I'll be poking a whole in them pretty soon."

She giggles and unbuckles his belt, unbuttoning his pants. He lets out the longest sigh of relief she's heard so far once she frees him from his jeans.

"Better baby?" She asks, nipping her way up to his upper thighs.

"Oh God…yes, Sam…damn it!" He squirms and moans when she brushes her hand against the bulge in his boxers.

"I want to make you feel so good." She says, kissing her way up to his chest. "But I don't know how to. Can you teach me?"

"You make me feel good every time you touch me. Just touch me, do whatever you want to do." He says, moaning when he feels her small hands massaging him through his boxers. "Oh God…baby!"

"I love you." She whispers into his ear before removing his boxers.

"I love you…too…oh!"

Sam tosses his boxers to the side and straddles his thighs, her hands running up and down his chest. She places a delicate kiss on each thigh and waits until he's done squirming to wrap her hand around his shaft. He's already hard and throbbing, and she feels a new rush of liquid wetting her underwear when she touches him there. The first time they'd been together, she had him in her hands, but it was more like something experimental at the time. This time, however, she wants to solely please him and give him as much enjoyment as he gives her.

"Sam…" He groans.

Remembering the last time she touched him like this, Sam slides her hand up and down his shaft in a slow, torturous rhythm, using her other hand to caress his balls. Freddie moans, arching his back slightly off the floor and digging his fingers into the comforter. Even if he could give himself some relief now and then, the feeling of a woman's velvet hand over him is pretty much missed, and this time, that woman being Sam, the person he loves the most, makes it all even better – almost too good to bear.

Sam moves her body a little further up, leaning over his throbbing cock. She thinks of all the time he pleased her with his mouth and wonders if he would like to receive the same treatment. She wonders what it will feel like for him if she just wrapped her lips around his most sensitive area. She continues her ministrations, remembering this one time on the underground base when she accidentally spotted a young girl giving a guard this kind of enjoyment. Before she stormed out of the room fearing a beating, Sam had a little time to observe her movements, not enough to know what to do, but enough to try it out.

"Baby?" She says, her hand going still on him.

"Yeah?" He groans, missing the exquisite pleasure she was giving him.

"I really like when you put your mouth on me."

"Oh…" Freddie sits up a little. "Do you want me to? Now?"

"No!" Sam chuckles, and pushes him back. "I was just wondering…if it would feel good for you too."

"Uh…yeah…uh. It feels good."

"Great, because I want to do that for you."

"You don't have to, Sam."

"I know, but I want to." She says, leaning over to kiss him. "Can I?"

"If you really want…"

"Yeah, I really want that."

Freddie nods as he lays back and relaxes, trying not to be nervous about this. He received blow jobs before, but this…it's Sam. He looks up at her as she prepares herself to suck him off, and realizes she's wearing way too much clothing.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"You're still wearing clothes…you think you can…?"

Sam smiles and stands up in front of him, slowly undressing for him. Freddie sits up to watch her as she removes her dress, tossing it to the side, and plays with the straps of her fancy bra before unhooking it. Freddie groans, reaching out to touch her, but she slaps his hand away and chuckles.

"Are you trying to kill me, woman?"

"What? Kill you? Of course not baby." She teases, holding the cups of her bra over her chest.

"Sam…" he warns. "Please baby, you're killing me here."

She smirks and tosses him her bra, making Freddie smile. Then she walks over to him and he places his hands on her waist. Freddie kisses the spot over the waistband of her see-through panties, and Sam fingers lose themselves in his hair. He caresses her shins, her thighs, and her bottom while kissing her lower stomach.

"Oh, Freddie." She gasps when he presses his lips against her crotch.

He touches her inner thighs, finding out she's so wet it's starting to drip down her legs.

"Baby, you're so wet."

Freddie looks up at her just before he slides her panties down her legs. Without further ado, Sam pushes Freddie back until he's lying down and straddles his thighs. Her hand moves back to his shaft, holding him close to her face. She doesn't really understand how this works, but she remembers what he does when he does that to her, so maybe it will work the same way with him.

Sam sticks out her tongue and gives an experimental lick to the head of his cock. Freddie moans and bucks his hips, making Sam smile. She starts to give him more generous licks, watching her husband groan loudly. Finally, she takes the tip of him into her mouth, and sucks carefully.

"Oh my god, Sam! Holy shit!" He growls.

Freddie starts to buck his hips when she bobs her head up and down, each time taking a little bit more of him inside of her mouth. At first it feels strange, a bit foreign, but he doesn't taste bad. In fact he doesn't have a particular taste, which makes it easier for Sam to lick him and suck him. After a while when he starts to shiver, she realizes she really likes to be able to give him that kind of pleasure and the effects this is having on her aren't so bad either. She works in a faster pace, stroking what she can't taste, just enjoying it almost as much as he is.

"Sam, Sam….Sam! You've got to stop…you've got to…oh…stop it now." He groans, pulling her by the hair - not strong enough to hurt, but enough to remove himself from her mouth.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"You have to stop…or else…I'm going to finish."

"So? I always finish in your mouth."

"But this is different." He explains.

"I don't care…I want to taste you."

"Sam…I…oh lord!" He yells when she takes him into her mouth again without warning.

He lays back down, not able to resist what she's offering him. Sam returns to him, increasing the pace, moaning when he thrusts inside her mouth. She feels him hitting the back of her throat, then she has the idea of taking him just a bit further. Freddie yells out when he feels the muscles of her throat around him, and he knows he's not going to be able to take it for much longer.

"Sam…oh god, Sam…slow down!"

But she doesn't, she just keeps going until he's not able to take it anymore.

"Sam…I'm…I'm gonna…oh god!"

When he comes, his cock is at the back of her throat, so she swallows most of it without tasting it. Sam removes him from her mouth and lies with her head on his chest, waiting for him to recover.

"Thank you." He whispers.

"You're welcome, baby. And I actually kind of enjoyed it. A lot."

"Your turn." Freddie says, flipping them over.

Sam chuckles, but her laugh disappears when he takes one of her nipples into his mouth. She throws her head back and moans as he worships her body with his lips, kissing over her ribs, dipping his tongue into her navel, sucking on her hipbones before reaching the place where she needs him the most. Freddie doesn't tease her, not tonight, not after the amazing thing she just did for him. He licks her mound of nerves at the same time he slides a finger into her.

"Freddie…oh shit…oh god, Freddie!"

She is already so aroused from giving him pleasure that all it takes for her to go over the edge is a few thrusts of his fingers and his tongue working on her clit.

"Already?" Freddie says.

"I was…just really…oh god," She pants. "I need you inside of me Freddie…I need you now."

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"Yes, like I've never been before. I love you and want you – I need you." She whispers.

Freddie kisses her slowly and sweetly, not in a rush to end the kiss anytime soon. One of her hands goes to his hair, losing itself in between his silk strands and the other roams all over his back and shoulders. Freddie pulls away to attach his mouth to her neck, kissing over her pulse point just like he knows she likes and moving to her collarbone. Sam spreads her legs, bending them against his sides and running her big toe against his calf just the way he likes.

Sam loves the pressure of his body against hers, his chest pressing against hers while he kisses and touches her. His hand slides from the back of her knee to the inside of her thighs, finally cupping her center. He caresses her, pressing two fingers against her clit while kissing and sucking her breasts. It's the perfect combination to make Sam completely ready for him, so wet and needy – ready to merge with him and become one.

"I love you." He says.

"I love you too. Make love to me, Freddie. This time, for real."

He nods, kissing her again and removing his hands from her. Sam moans when she feels the head of his cock pushing against her mound of nerves, and she thinks she's going mad with desire. Before he can push inside of her, Freddie remembers the first night they were together, and how he being on top of her trigged a bad memory. Because he wants this to be nothing but perfect, he gives her one more kiss before changing positions with her.

"Freddie!" Sam gasps, her hands on his chest to balance herself. "What are you doing?"

"Trust me, baby." He whispers, caressing her face lovingly. "I know what I'm doing."

"But I don't know how to…"

"I'll teach you. Don't worry about a thing…I'll show you."

"But I…"

"Trust me."

He grabs her by the hips and lifts her slightly off him, positioning her above his throbbing erection before lowering her on him. Sam gasps, feeling every inch of his shaft as she slides down on him. Freddie groans at her tightness, digging his fingers into her skin.

"Oh…" She gasps, leaving her mouth slightly open.

She can feel her insides burning, and the feeling of him being inside of her like that send shivers down her spine. Sam takes a deep breath, trying not to move or do anything that might send her right to the edge, because it feels so good to be filled with him she's scared she might implode. Once she's fully seated on him, Freddie holds her still – he knows that if she moves, this will be over.

"Sam, don't move." He pants. "If you do…I'll be a goner."

"Okay." She nods like a maniac and pants.

She actually needs time for herself too. He just feels so good inside of her and she wants this so much…she's afraid to move and lose this moment. Sam leans forward and lays her head on his chest, waiting for their bodies to be ready. Freddie relaxes, pushing her hair out of the way so he can kiss her shoulder.

"You can move now." He says.

Sam nods and sits up, not sure of what to do. She wasn't ready for this, she was expecting him to be on top – him to do the hard work. Freddie smiles when she shoots him a pleading look and grabs her by the hips, lifting her up. Sam gasps, feeling herself sliding back down on him. The feeling is the best thing she's ever felt in her whole life and it doesn't take much to make her heart beat so fast. She's actually afraid it will rip out of her chest. Freddie helps her move, hands on her hips, grinding her against him and moving her up and down and it feels so damn good.

He throws his head back when she grinds her hips against his by herself, and he loosens his grip on her to allow her to move at her own pace. Sam uses her hands for balance against his chest, slightly slipping because of his sweat as she starts to work her hips against his. It all feels so good, him so long and thick, stretching her to her limits and throbbing inside of her. It's the perfect combination and she doesn't know why the hell she didn't do this before.

"Freddie…oh…oh…god…baby you feel so good! Oh god!"

"Sam…oh fuck! Baby, I love you so much!"

"Ah!"

She throws her head back, mouth open and eyes closed, moving faster and faster, going up and down, grinding against him in a desperate pace. But something is missing, and she knows what it is. What she wants is the weight of him above her, crushing her. She wants to give that another try. Sam remembers how comforting it was that night, his weight holding her there, keeping her from running away. He was the only thing getting her through the waves of nervousness, and although she is enjoying this very much, although she enjoys feeling him so deep inside of her, she still wants that kind of closeness – this is too far away.

"Freddie, please… his is too far away...please, I just want to be…oh…close to you."

Freddie sits up, making her gasp at the change of position. She lets out a raw moan when she feels her clit crushed against his pubic bone and she starts to move faster while he's thrusting deep inside of her.

"Oh god…oh…god…oh, Freddie…oh!"

"Sam…damn it, baby…oh damn, you feels so good!" He groans. "You're so tight…so wet…I can't even…oh god…!"

She kisses him with tongue and teeth, pushing his head down so he can pay some attention to her breasts. He takes one of them into his mouth as much as he can, and kneads the other not too gently, but she seems to enjoy that a lot.

"Oh fuck!" She cries out. "Fuck me! Please, I want you on top of me! Just fuck me!"

He answers her by flipping them over without stopping his thrusts into her. Sam let's out the longest moan of the night when she spreads her legs wider and he goes even deeper into her. He kisses her and kisses her, moving into her at a quickening pace, but not too fast yet, and with enough force to make her eyes roll back into her head.

"Is that what you wanted?" He asks, whispering into her ear. "Huh, love? Tell me, is that what you want?"

"Yes…oh, yes…please don't stop!" She moans.

"Never…I'm never going to stop. I love you, love you so much."

"Oh God! Freddie…fuck, this feels so damn good! Oh baby! I love you too…oh…god! Please, faster!" She begs out loud.

His thrusts gain more power and speed as he moves at a faster, almost frantic pace. It's been so long, and he wanted this so much, he thought about it so much – it feels too good to be real. He grinds against her, gyrating his hips and making her cry out his name, and when he feels her thighs closing around him with more force, he knows she's close. Sam moves with him, lifting her hips up meet his every thrust, taking him deep inside of her, moaning louder and louder each time she feels him poking that very special place inside of her.

"Freddie…I can't take it anymore!" She cries out.

"Let go, baby. Come on…you can let go." He says, kissing her sweaty neck. "Come for me."

Freddie lowers his head to her chest, urging her to come, pushing her closer and closer to her end. Sam cries out as her walls shudder around him, squeezing him in the most delicious way, and he doesn't stop moving. Her back arches off the floor in an inhuman way, and Freddie just loves how the light from the fireplace glows against her skin. She shivers, shudders, screams his name and whimpers, coming so hard she thinks she just passed out, and he only stops when her body collapses against the floor.

He wants more than anything to come inside of her and fill her with his seed, but what he doesn't want is to have to deal with a baby right now. He still couldn't wrap the idea of being a father around his mind, and he's not ready to deal with that yet – it doesn't help that they still didn't talk about that. He wants to be able to relieve himself inside of her to seal this moment, but in his mind, it can lead to consequences, and this is not a risk he's willing to take. So he thrusts into her two more times before removing himself from inside of her.

Freddie reaches for her hand that is laying limp on the side of her body, and wraps it around his shaft.

"What are you doing?" Sam asks.

"I need you to…you know…so I can…" He pants when she starts to move her hand on him.

"Why don't you come inside of me?" She whispers.

"I can't…oh Sam, please…I need this." He groans with frustration.

She doesn't understand why he can't just come inside of her, but keeps working her hand on him until she feels him shivering. He starts to buck his hips into her hand, and his groans become more wild and animalistic.

"Sam! Ah! Move…oh!"

He's about to tell her to move away from him, but there's no time - he comes hard, harder than ever before, and shoots his seed over her stomach. His body goes limp after she removes her hand from him, and he collapses on top of her. Sam caresses his back, waiting for him to recover, and giving some time for her own body to regain energy. She whispers that she loves him against his ear while stroking his hair, and Freddie answers with an exhausted sigh.

"We made a real mess." He says after a while, realizing that his release is still there between them, along with the sweat of their bodies.

"True…but it was so worthy." She says with a chuckle.

"Let me clean you up." He says, standing up.

"Baby, don't leave me!" She whines.

"Don't worry love, I'll be right back." He kisses her forehead before running into the kitchen, making Sam laugh.

As he promised, Freddie runs back from the kitchen with a bunch of paper towels in his hands, which he uses to clean himself while he walks. Sam, who didn't get taste much of him before, is dying with curiosity. She just wants to know what he tastes like. So before he can kneel on the floor and clean her off, she uses two fingers to wipe off some of his release from her stomach and inserts them inside of her mouth.

"Oh my god, woman! Do you want to kill me?" He groans and Sam giggles.

He doesn't taste bad, not bad at all, actually he's a bit salty and sweet – a combination she happens to love.

"You taste good." She says.

"So do you." He says, finally cleaning her.

Freddie lies on the comforter, bringing Sam to him. She lays her head on his chest, just happy to have him there all to herself. It feels almost impossible that after a lifetime of unhappiness and fear, she's able to feel so loved and safe right now. This is not what she expected her life to be when she first arrived here, but it certainly turned out to be much better. She looks up at her husband, who has his eyes open, staring right back at her. Into his brown orbs she finds a promise of love for a lifetime, and everything she will ever need, and she never ever wants to stop looking into his eyes.

"I love you so much." She whispers. "I need you to know that, and never ever doubt it."

"I love you too, Sam. I love you so much it consumes me, but I don't ever want it to stop."

"Me neither."

She kisses him with all her love, feeling his own love in the way he kisses her. The kiss becomes so intense that he can't help but get hard again. Sam slides her hand down his chest, finding out she's not the only one ready for the second round. She breaks the kiss to pin his arms over his head and straddles his waist.

"Ugh! Baby…" He groans, feeling her breasts crushing against his chest and her mouth on his neck.

"You're so hard already…" She says, taking his earlobe between her teeth.

"Why don't we go upstairs to take care of this?" He smirks, raising his eyebrow at her.

"We could…if…" She says, sitting up. "You can catch me first!"

Without warning she takes off running towards the stairs.

"Hey!" Freddie calls.

He stands up and runs after her, and although she has the upper hand and is very light, he's just faster. He catches her just before she can reach the bedroom door and wraps his arms around her middle, crushing her against him, pressing his arousal against her bottom.

"Gotcha!" He whispers in her ear.

"Yes, you did…" She giggles. "So what are you going to do now?"

"I think you know." He whispers, sliding his hand down to cup her pussy, loving how she gasps at the touch.

He turns her around and lifts her up, pressing her against the wall with her legs around his waist.

"Ready to start all over again?" He asks.

"Oh yeah, baby." She whispers seductively. "Bring it on."

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><p><em>AN Sorry I've been absent, but I have a good reason. I got married! Yay! And I was on my honey moon, so I had no time to write or do much… if you know what I mean ;P However, I'm back now, so here's the chapter, and next chapter this fic will start to take different turns… well, not really, it's more like a preparation though, for other things that will come to happen. Here's a clue: _

"_Man is not what he thinks he is – he is what he hides." (André Malraux)_

_**Edited by the fantastic clarksonfan!**_

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><p><em>John Mayer – Slow Dancing In A Burning Room.<em>


	28. In My Veins

**Genre**_**:**__ Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, I was going to name it iFreddie, but he's a jerk, dickhead, asshole, so I'm changing my choice to iSam. However, my Freddie is not a dumb ridiculous jackass, so I'm better than Dan at something. __(Fuck you, Dan Schneider!)_

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OOC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

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><p>I wake up to the smell of her all around me. As I open my eyes, I see her mane of blond hair as it covers my whole face and I'm able to inhale the smell of her shampoo with every breath I take. Some mornings I wake up wondering if this is all just a dream, then she climbs on top of me for another round and I know it's real. I can barely believe this is us right now. Tangled limbs, bed hair, naked bodies, when once there was a time where we were nothing but two strangers trying to live through a horribly uncomfortable situation.<p>

My hand runs up and down her arm, and although she's still asleep, she shivers. I place a tiny kiss on her shoulder which is still slightly damp from the amazing sex we had just a few hours ago. She woke me up at three a.m. for a little daybreak fun, and when my head hit the pillow an hour later I was a goner. We've been at it very often lately, not that I'm complaining or anything - on the contrary, sometimes I come back from work already unbuckling my belt before I can close the front door.

It's just that everything feels so good with her, not just the intercourse, but the act of making love to my wife, the woman who is so important to me, represents so much to me makes everything so much better. Although the sex is great, and when I say great I really mean great – she's such a fast learner – there is something I feel I've been missing and I know she feels it too. I don't want to take my chances, and I also don't want a child right now, but how great would it be if I could come inside of her just once? She doesn't understand why I can't, and I don't want to explain it to her yet. I know we promised no secrets and no lies, and I'm not lying or keeping anything from her…I'm just…not ready to go down that road yet. That is not a conversation I'm fully prepared for.

And it's not like I don't notice the glow in Sam's eyes when Carly starts to talk about her baby. I'm getting the inconspicuous feeling that Sam might want more than I do from our relationship right now. Don't get me wrong, I love her, and her only. She is my forever and my family, but I'm not ready to be more than a husband yet. I just hope she can understand that eventually. I know that by law she has to be pregnant within four months, so technically I still have that time to get used to the idea – and I really need it. I just wish there was a way for me to be able to be with her completely and still not make any babies anytime soon.

I'm not a gynecologist, so I have no idea if there are days women are less fertile, or at least days where the chance of getting pregnant are smaller – I didn't spend enough time in school to learn about anatomy or take a health class. Sometimes I think about asking, but I don't know how to do that without bringing the _"babies" _subject to the table. There are moments when I'm inside of her and it feels so damn good that I think about taking a chance. She just feels so good it makes me want lose my mind – but thank God I don't.

Last night, I almost gave in. She had just come and I was right around the corner, she had her nails digging deep into my skin, when she started to do that thing I like – with her toes on my calf – and I shivered really hard and almost gave into the feeling. It's getting harder and harder to hold back, every single day and every single time I'm with her I feel the urge to give up – I'm starting to slowly lose control of myself.

As the images of last night pop into my head, I feel myself getting aroused. That's just it with her, you know. Every time I think about her, I just lose myself. It makes for extremely uncomfortable moments at work. The memory of her body, the feel of her, how she moves, moans, touches me…it's too much sometimes. I understood my need for her, I've spent a long time without that kind of intimacy, but it's not just that. The fact that it's Sam right there under me, above me, all over me makes everything that much better. I press closer to her body and feel myself shivering.

"Mmm…someone is awake." She whispers. I like when her voice is hoarse in the morning.

"Morning beautiful. I didn't mean to wake you up, sorry." I say, kissing the spot behind her ear.

"Mmmm, I can't think of a better way to wake up, baby." She purrs, grinding her bottom against me.

"Sam…won't you get sore or something?" My hand moves to her hip and I hold her while she moves against me.

"It's the best kind of pain I've ever felt." She says, turning her head to kiss me.

"Baby…I…don't want you to hurt…" I say, trying not to give into the feeling of her moving against me like this.

"Sometimes, when you're inside of me, I want you to be there forever, to never pull out." She says, continuing to grind herself against me.

"You make it impossible for me to give you some rest." I say, now moving with her.

"Ah! Oh…I don't want you to…oh god!"

I move my hand downwards, cupping her center, sliding a finger between her folds and she squirms against me.

"Fuck!"

She throws her head back with a moan, making it even easier for me to taste the sweat on her neck. I bite the flesh of her neck gently, trying not to leave a mark on her, and she cries out my name. I keep kissing and sucking on her neck, moving my other hand, the one that's underneath her, to cup her breast, kneading her soft flesh and moaning with her. Sam's sex drive really surprises me. She has her hands on me all the time, making it hard – impossible – for me to take _my_ hands off her. She's always pouncing me at every opportunity she has, attacking me before I can close the front door, slipping her hand down my pants when I'm driving, and sneaking into the shower with me before work. Yeah, I'm a very happy man.

"Baby…I need you." She begs.

I love it when she begs for me. It makes me feel…proud, wanted, loved, needed – it just swells my ego.

"Need me to do what?" I whisper into her ear. "Huh baby? What do you need me to do?"

"Oh shit, Freddie! You know very well, don't make me beg for it!" She says, grinding her hips against my hand.

"Do I? I don't think so." I say, biting her earlobe.

"Freddie!" She warns.

"If you don't tell me, I'll never know…and if I never know, I'll never be able to give you what you want…so…" I say, pinching her nipple, causing her to cry out.

She groans in frustration and tries to make a grab for my cock, but I'm faster, removing my hand from her and wrapping my fingers around her wrist. She whimpers pathetically and tries to free her hand, but my hold on her is strong – and a little slippery.

"You're wetting my wrist!" She complains.

"I don't see you having a problem with me getting my fingers wet…hey!" I chuckle when she tries to elbow me.

"Jerk!" She tries to move, but gasps when I press my dick against her.

"Come on baby…don't be embarrassed…tell me what you want." I whisper in her ear. "You weren't so embarrassed last night when you woke me up with that amazing blowjob."

"Freddie…" She whines.

"Do you feel this?" I ask, wrapping her hand around my shaft.

"Oh…yes…" Her voice is low and husky, so sensual that it makes me shiver.

"It can all be yours if you just say what you need from me."

"Ugh! I hate you, Benson!"

"No you don't." I chuckle. "Come on Princess, say what you need. Tell me, please?"

"Ugh, Freddie! I need you inside of me now!" She hisses. "Are you happy?"

"Very." I respond, releasing her hand and sliding into her.

We both moan in unison, and I move my hand back to her hip, adjusting her so I can penetrate her better. Once I find a better angle, I start to thrust, and she arches against me.

"See? All you need to do…ugh…is just…say it." I pant into her ear.

"Freddie…mmm…oh god, don't stop!"

"I won't, baby…relax, I'll never stop."

She moans something unintelligibly and throws her head back slightly, and I take her earlobe between my teeth, making her yelp. I move my other hand to her breast as I keep moving, never wanting to stop moving inside of her. She's not the only one who wishes this could never end. Sometimes – every time – when I'm inside of her, I never want to pull out. A high pitched sound escapes her lips, coming from deep within her throat as I move my hand down her stomach. I caress her folds before sliding two fingers to rub her.

"Freddie! Oh god…I'm so close! Fuck! I'm so close…ugh…don't…s-stop!"

I respond by sucking on her shoulder, my teeth digging into her skin. I can already feel my release so close, just around the corner, and I'm so damn tempted to let go, to just forget my fears and release myself inside of her, but I don't – I can't. She trembles, telling me she's ready for her own release, and I move faster and harder to get her there before I can have time to lose myself.

"Baby! Oh god…baby…Ah!"

She comes, her walls squeezing me violently, and I cry out – this is pure torture. I keep moving, breathing and panting against her ear, so damn tempted to let go. Sam finally comes down from her high, and as much as I want to stay there, I begin to remove myself from inside of her. She grabs my ass with her hand, holding me right where I am.

"Sam…I need…"

"I want you to finish inside of me." She demands.

"I can't…I won't." I whimper, trying to wiggle my hips away from her, but her grip is tight on me, purposely closing her inner walls around me. "Fuck, Sam!"

"Freddie…I really want to feel it. Please?" She turns her head to plead with me. "Please…I want to feel you."

"I can't, Sam…I promise you, it is no different from when I come in your mouth." I pant, feeling my release around the corner. If I don't pull out of her right now, I'll be doomed.

"Bullshit!" She glares at me.

"Please, baby, please?" I beg, grimacing. Oh God! She's still so wet…fuck, I don't think I'll be able to hold on for much longer. "Please, Sam, please!"

"Only if you promise me you'll tell me why." She says, moving down on me.

When I don't respond, only pant, she slams backwards into me, making me cry out and grip her hips with more force.

"I promise! I promise! Jesus, Sam, I'm going to implode!"

I let out a huge sigh of relief when she allows me to pull out and roll onto my back. My cock is still hard as rock, and my release still waits for me. Sam crawls towards me, wrapping her hand around me and I tremble. I'm out of breath, panting so hard, and my cheeks are hot – I really need this. She sees the pleading look in my eyes and lowers her head, taking me inside of her mouth. I cry out so loud I'm sure Brad heard me, but I think he's used to our noises by now – Sam just can't be quiet. It doesn't take me much to go over the edge. A few licks, a few sucks and I'm right there. She rides my orgasm, sucking me with even more force, and afterwards I collapse, done, so fucking tired.

"God…you really tortured me there." I pant.

"I don't understand why you can't finish inside of me." She complains, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Baby…" I roll to the side, unfolding her arms. "There is a reason…a good one, I promise you."

"What is it?"

"Tell you what…" I start, kissing her cheek. "Give me some rest, you know I really need a break, and we'll talk about it, all right?"

She glares at me from the corner of her eye and I chuckle.

"Sam, really, I need some rest, some food, and I still have my appointment. Besides, you have to go to the community center, remember? It's Wednesday."

"Ugh! I hate them for changing the day to today! I mean, why do I have to keep going to these classes? I already know everything there is to know about being married…" She smirks.

"True that!" I laugh. "But it's mandatory and we don't want to get in any more trouble, right?"

"Why can't I just call in sick?"

"Baby, just please do it, okay? Just go, tune out and think about me…about us…" I say suggestively before kissing her.

"I can do that." She answers with a smirk. "That shall give me some fun ideas…" She muses, and I laugh.

"Now…we have until nine to get some sleep…so let's make the most of it." I say, pulling her to me.

"But afterwards you'll tell me why, right?" She looks at me with those huge blue eyes, and I just can't say no to her.

"Yes. We promised no secrets, didn't we?" She nods. "Then there isn't going to be a secret standing between us. I promise."

"Okay, Benson."

"And I know you won't let me off the hook anyway."

"You bet your sweet ass I won't!"

"Oh Sam…" I say, chuckling as I kiss her. "See you in a few hours."

"Dream about me, baby." She says, snuggling against me.

"Always."

* * *

><p>Sam is still asleep when I wake up to make her some breakfast. I wake up earlier to take a good shower and then kiss her on the forehead before going down to the kitchen. She is still on her side, tangled in the sheets, her hair a wild, tangled, mess. I take a moment to admire her beauty before I have to leave. She is no regular woman, and I wonder how I got so lucky to be paired up with her. Sam is infinitely more beautiful than most girls, she's definitely not average, and if what Frank Ellis said before is indeed the truth, why didn't she get paired up with someone who could afford a beautiful wife?<p>

I sigh, running my fingers down her arm, just looking at her for a second. I couldn't even bear the thought of her being with someone else. Whatever the reason was, she came to me, she is mine now and I'm never letting her go. I lean forward, trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake her up. Even though she's still asleep, and her hair is nothing but a messy nest, she still looks peaceful and gloriously beautiful. Her long blond locks are one of my favorite things about Sam. Well, there isn't one thing I don't love about her, but, her hair is…symbolic. And her eyes? Oh god, they're perfect. The most amazing shade of navy blue I've ever seen.

Unconsciously, I start to wonder if a baby with her eyes would be so bad. No! I shake my head. No, I'm not ready for the repercussions of it yet. Being a father is more complicated than simply coming inside of my wife – because even if I'm able to love a child, I don't want to. I don't want to love someone who is going to be taken away from me sooner or later. And that is why I can't even think about it.

I wouldn't be able to survive with the guilt of knowing I couldn't protect my child. One day, Visualize will come to take my son or daughter away from me, or they will give my girl into the hands of a stranger and make my son marry someone he doesn't love, and I won't be able to do anything about it. There is no fighting it, there is no way out…there is nothing I can do. If only the system was different…but things are the way they are. If only someone could make a difference…but who? And why am I even talking about this? There are no heroes anymore, there never was. No one would ever go against Visualize, no one would ever try to change things. Everybody is too scared. They have something to lose, something important.

I leave Sam with one final kiss and go downstairs to the kitchen, and as I start to work on breakfast my mind goes back to the night I met President Wells. He told me something that didn't seem important at the time, but now that I think of it…_You would make a great politician, you know. _No…I couldn't…I don't have the strength and the motivation to do it, and besides it's a crazy idea. Even if I could be, what difference would it make?

_I know people who would pay a great deal just to be paired up with a pretty girl like her, and I could make that happen!_

If Ellis can make that happen, if that kind of corruptive power exists, then maybe…I could...maybe guarantee the safety of my own children? _No! This is stupid! _First, I don't even know how to join Visualize. Second, who can guarantee me that Frank Ellis was really telling the truth? Joining Visualize is a no way out situation. Even if I wanted to take a risk, the outcome might not be favorable to me, and I would be trapped in a world where I don't belong. I wouldn't be able to change my mind.

"Knock, knock, I'm coming in!" I hear Brad humming from the kitchen door.

"Hey man." I greet him, setting the breakfast on a tray for Sam.

"Breakfast for the little lady?" He grins.

"You know it."

"Oh, so I heard right…those noises were really coming from here." He smirks, and I elbow him. "What? You're the one who's loud!"

"Shut it, jerk!"

"So the wifey gives you something really good and in return you make her breakfast in bed?" He says while fishing a waffle from the bunch and taking a bite before I can do anything about it. "Or is it the other way around? You make her breakfast and she gives you something nice in return?"

I glare at him, walking out of the kitchen and into the backyard. Brad follows me, chewing on Sam's waffle. Thank god she is asleep – otherwise, there would be blood. She is very protective of her food, like a mamma bear. I wonder what she would be like as a mother…no, don't go there man, don't think about it.

"You look good. Happier, too." Brad says, mouthful of waffle and all. "Maybe I should try this with Carly."

"It's not a bad idea, actually. In fact, the payoff is quite worth it." I chuckle, grabbing my gardening scissors to cut out three big red roses for my love.

"Nice to know." He says, then goes quiet for a while.

Brad follows me back into the kitchen and watches as I put the roses in a small vase and place it on the tray. I'm only waiting for him to spit it out. I know he wants to say something, he is here to tell me something, or ask me something, but for some reason, he's been hesitating. I know this guy better than I know myself, and maybe the same thing goes for him. I know just when to push it, and when to wait for it, and now is the time to wait for it.

Sometimes, if you try to get something out of Brad that he's not ready to let out, things get a bit complicated. The same happens with me, but in my case, the outcome is a bit more violent. Brad just gets trapped inside his own mind, which is not good, but it's better than trying to hurt yourself, or others, like I do. At least he doesn't put up a show.

"So?" I ask him, taking a sip of my own coffee. "You want coffee or what?"

"Thanks, but I've already eaten." He declines. "Are you going to your session today?"

"Yeah. I'm going to feed my wife, wait for her to change, drop her off at the community center and go down to the doctor's office."

"Huh…good…"

He looks at me, I look at him, and we stay silent. He knows I'm not going to push, and I know he only needs time.

"I'm having a boy." He finally says.

The news hits me hard, somewhere inside me, and it's definitely not what I've been waiting for.

"Congratulations, Brad." I say, not so convincingly.

"I'm scared shitless." He admits.

"Yeah, I imagine." I say, toying with my mug, averting my gaze at all cost.

"Do you remember our first time out on the field?"

"Yes…" I don't really know where this is going.

"And do you remember what you told me just before we left the base for the first time since we got there?"

"_I got your back. _Yeah…I remember." I say, lifting my eyes to meet his.

"I need you to have my back now, Freddie. I really need your help."

"You know that in this case my help isn't much use, right?" I abandon the coffee cup on the counter to give him my full attention. I have to make him see that I'm not very good help in this case. "You know that this is not what I've been trained for, this is nothing I know how to deal with, right?"

"I just need to know you'll be there for me – for them. If something happens…you'll be there for them. If I fail…you'll be there. There is no one is this world I trust more than you, and I'm just asking for you to be there in case I can't be. I wouldn't trust the two most important people in my life with anyone else but you."

I look at my best friend and think of all the times we saved each other. I think of all the times we came back for each other when no one else would. In the middle of a fire, in between two different troupes shooting at each other, grenades, men, weapons, bombs…none of that ever stopped us from coming back for each other, to help each other. He would take a bullet for me and I would do just the same – as we did, many times. He's been my friend, my family, my brother, and when I had nothing, when I felt like nothing, he was always there, telling me I was wrong.

Part of the reason I'm alive right now is my love for Brad. After the war ended, I felt like there was nothing more for me to do here, and I could finally be free of my torments. I tried to end my life. I was just so tired, but just before I was about to die, I saw him and the pain I would cause him if I left. As I woke up in the hospital, I recall him calling me a _selfish bastard_, and then I understood that my life wasn't only about me anymore, but also about the ones I would be leaving behind – in that case, Brad.

After all this time, we would still protect each other, we would fight for each other and we would take a bullet for each other. There is nothing I wouldn't do for him and nothing he wouldn't do for me. So, if he's asking me to be there, I'll be there, and if this kid needs me, I'll be there and if Carly ever needs me, I'll be there.

"So, I guess I'm going to be a godfather, then." I say.

He smiles and takes me into a bear hug. I wrap my arms around him too and hug him back. There is this lump caught in my throat, but I won't allow myself to cry because that would be very embarrassing.

"Thank you." He whispers, before letting me go.

We clear our throats awkwardly and I go back to my coffee cup.

"So? When am I going to be a godparent?" He asks.

"Brad…come on, please don't." I whine.

"Oh god Freddie, please don't make this harder than it needs to be."

"I still have a few months, thank you very much." I defend myself. "Until then I would like to have some fun with my wife, thank you very much."

"Yeah, but if you keep enjoying your wife too much, she'll just end up pregnant anyway."

"About that…" I shake my head.

"You're not…? No…? Not?" He stammers.

"No. I'm not dumb, Brad."

"So you just…pull out?"

"Yeah, something like that." I shrug.

"Wow…okay, I didn't need to know that." He grimaces.

"Hey, you were the one who brought it up, all right. I didn't even want to talk about it."

"All right, then."

"But it's hard man…I mean, I want it but…I can't."

"Freddie, why don't you just do it and get on with it?"

"Oh so, that's what you did? _Hey Carly, guess what, let's just do it and get on with it, huh? Let's randomly make a baby!"_ I do my best impersonation of Brad.

"Hey! It wasn't anything like that! All I'm saying is that you shouldn't try to fight the inevitable. And besides, I don't really see a problem here. You love Sam, she loves you. A child would be nothing but a solid proof of that love."

"Brad, can we not talk about this right now? Please?" I ask, annoyed he is even pushing this subject.

"Okay, all right. If you want to pull out for the next three months, be my guest, it's your dick anyway."

"Ha, ha." I say, sarcastically. "If only there was a way…"

"A way of what?" He squints, looking at me suspiciously.

"You know…"

"You're not thinking…?"

"Condoms. Where can I get them?"

Brad gasps like I just said something very offensive, then he shushes me, looking very agitated.

"Are you crazy? Those sorts of things don't exist anymore!"

"Come on, there has to be some sort of black market around town, Brad!"

"Freddie, you're thinking before Visualize, not after Visualize. You know they would make sure that sort of thing doesn't get around anymore. They eradicated every illegal activity. That sort of thing doesn't exist anymore! So don't even think about it!" He hisses.

"Alright, alright…fine. Okay, it doesn't. I guess I'll just have to see if there is another way."

"Why don't you ask Sam?"

"And how would _Sam _know that?" I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

"The same way Carly does – asking her lady's doctor about it. She tried to explain it to me once, but it was so weird that I tuned out, but maybe Sam can ask her doctor and then tell you."

"Oh…that makes sense…I guess I'll try that then…" I say awkwardly.

"Look…it's eight thirty, you better go before Sam's coffee gets cold." He tells me, looking at his watch. "I'll see you around…and thank you…you know, about before."

"No problem, man." I shrug, trying to pretend it doesn't matter.

"And stop thinking about stupid things!"

"Okay, alright…now go away. Get out of my house." I say, pushing him out the door.

"So much for manners! I thought we had something special!" He yells before I close the door in his face.

I sigh and go back to the kitchen to collect Sam's breakfast. My mind is running a mile a minute, so many different topics at once, so many things to consider.

Before my head can go somewhere it doesn't belong, I climb the stairs and open the bedroom door. I cannot afford to worry about that right now. Not now that everything is finally calm, that the waves have finally passed. I just can't bring myself to worry about it all. One step at a time, I think as I kiss my wife awake.

One step at a time.

* * *

><p>"You're lying down today." Dr. John observes, scribbling something down in his notebook. "That's a change."<p>

"Yeah, well, I feel comfortable." I shrug.

"Wanna talk about what's been on your mind lately?" He fixes his glasses.

"Well, I've been doing some thinking. Actually, I've been thinking a lot."

"What about?"

"Me and Sam. After everything that happened, we're finally in a good place, you know? We're just really happy."

"Even with all you'll have to do to keep this peace, do you think it's worth it?"

"Yes. I'd do anything for Sam, doctor. I don't care about shooting a few commercials and doing some propos. I just want to be with my wife, and I want to make sure she's cared for and protected."

"But how do you really feel about that? Assuming such hardship can't be easy, especially when you've always been skeptic about Visualize's beliefs."

"It's not…I feel…I feel the same way I felt back in the war – used. But last time I was there without a purpose, I was just a pawn in their games, this time I'm doing it solely for mine and Sam's benefit."

"So the price to pay doesn't matter, as long as you achieve your goal?"

"To keep Sam and protect her, I'd do anything by any means necessary."

He studies me silently and he's done it before, but I don't know why this time feels different – like he's trying to…I don't know, choose his next words carefully? Make sure I really mean what I say? I wonder if I said something wrong and for a moment I worry about the repercussions. I've been paranoid for most of my life, with good reason, but Dr. John always inspired trust, and even in this moment when I can't read his expression, I still trust him. I still believe he's a good person. Or perhaps I'm just lying to myself and my denial is stronger with him, but something inside of me tells me _no, he's trustworthy_.

"You're really willing to do whatever it takes?"

"Whatever it takes."

"I need you to be sure, Freddie." He whispers.

"Why? Why are you asking me that?" I sit up, suspicious.

"Because that's a dangerous path to walk on and I just want you to understand all the risks. Are you aware of that?"

"I am. I'm aware of that and I don't care. Like I said before, I'd do anything for her." I insist.

Dr. John looks at me one more time and sighs, leaning back in his chair.

"That's very good to hear, Freddie. We made progress, I see. You're more open and objective. Looks like that cloud over your head is moving away."

_Or to another direction, _I think, and allow my body to relax and lie back on the couch.

"Something else on your mind?"

I tell him about Brad and Brad's new baby, and how I promised him I'd be a godparent when in fact it's the last thing I wanted. But I would do it anyway because Brad needs me. It's when he asks me if I want to be a parent that I shift uncomfortably.

"How can I? You saw me in my worst times, you more than anyone should know I'm not fit to be a parent." I say.

"You have a lot of good in your heart Freddie. You're willing to make sacrifices to guarantee the happiness and the safety of the ones you love, you would never purposely hurt anyone, especially the ones you care for, and you always put their lives before yours. Those are valuable lessons to teach a child. You're also trying to get better, you're putting your best efforts into your treatment and your relationship with Sam, and you're doing a great favor for your friend. The problem here, Freddie, is that you only see the bad side of you. Thankfully, you have people to see the other side of you – the good side."

I bite my bottom lip, thinking about everything he said. But it doesn't matter anyway, because even if I'm a good parent, I wouldn't be able to protect my kid from Visualize, and I'd rather have no kids than let them suffer.

_There is another way out, though._

No. I already established that is a horrible idea with no guarantees. I can't risk everything that I have left chasing one damn idea – a bad idea.

"Even if all you say is true, I'm no superman. I wouldn't be able to protect my kids against the fate designed for them, and I couldn't live with the guilt."

"So that's what scares you?"

"How could I not be afraid to hand my daughter to the hands of a stranger? Who can guarantee me he is going to be good for her? I just…can't."

"Being a parent is making sacrifices and living with the guilt. You don't always make it right, but you sure as hell will die trying." He says with a depth in his voice that leaves me wondering. "Nothing is ever certain, Freddie."

_Unless you make it certain._

* * *

><p>I park in front of the community center, getting out of the car as I wait for Sam's class to be over. My conversation with Dr. John only served to confuse me even more. It defeats the whole purpose of therapy. I was supposed to walk out of his office with my head free of worries, or at least with my thoughts organized, and instead, I'm even more of a mess. I keep having these ideas, theses thoughts about things I shouldn't be thinking about, and I can't make it stop.<p>

I just wanted to live in peace with my wife, but it seems like peace might not be so easy to get. I keep thinking that perhaps I'll never have peace in a dictatorship like Visualize's, their ideas and way of life just irks me and I can't be, even if I try, condescending. Something inside of me wants to move, it wants to make noise, to scream and be heard, but at the same time, I have to hold back. It's too dangerous to even think like this, so for Sam's sake, and my own, I have to simmer down – I have to sooth whatever it is that's trying to surface.

"Hey babe. How was your session?"

My beautiful wife smiles happily as she reaches for me. She wraps her arms around my neck and gives me a sloppy kiss, and I hold on to her just a little longer for good measure.

"It was interesting. But all I wanna do is go home and cuddle with you for the rest of the day." I say, running my hands up and down her back.

"But can you please feed me first? I hate those classes, they get me in a bad mood, and I feel too lazy to cook today. Can we please, please, please go out for Chinese?" She bats her eyelashes with a smile that allows me to see her teeth.

"Of course, Sam, whatever you want. Whatever you need, I'll give to you."

"You're the best, Benson!" She gives me another sloppy, eager kiss.

"No, you are. Now come on, let's grab a bite."

I open the passenger side door for her and as I drive to the Chinese restaurant, I try to fill my mind with good thoughts. I listen to Sam talking, telling me how awful her day was, and I'm glad she's clueless to the battle I'm fighting in my own head right now. Because even if I keep pushing and pushing it back, those thoughts, those ideas will always be in the back of my mind. That thing inside of me still wants to move. It keeps squirming, it wants to break free, and it won't stop until I'm able to do something about it.

I can either kill it or set it free.

* * *

><p><strong>~The CABAL~<strong>

**annierocket aussiemma axel100 BaalRules beforeskylines BoxOfTrinkets Braxenimos Coyote LaughsDeviocity Dwyn Arthur FMellark heartlines iCarlyAngst JamesTheGreater KeyLimePie14 KingxLeon21 Moviepal Myjumpingsocks ober22 Pieequals36 Pigwiz pearlbutton328 PsychoticAppleSauce Rhiabrey Skye sidouxamer Spinlight Tech-Man TheWrtrInMe Twowritehands Virgoleo23 Waffels Of Doom WhiteKnightro WildPomegranate xXACCEBXx**

**From fluff, to face melting angst.**

**The Cabal authors produce the best.**

**Follow us on Twitter: iCabalOfficial**

**Find us on fanfiction net: iCabal**

* * *

><p><em>AN: I know it's been a while, sorry guys, I've been busy, but here it is, and I hope you guys liked it. As you must see I join the Cabal, YAY! Great honor there. Thanks to pigwiz who invited me! Comment on the chapter if you have the time and tell me what you liked about it, I love to know what you guys like. Anyway, here is a clue for next chapter:_

"_I talk to God but the sky is empty." (Sylvia Plath)_

_**Edited by clarksonfan ;P (another fan of Castle, that's why she edits for me, because she is awesomeee!)**_

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><p><em>Andrew Belle – In My Veins (special chapter, a little bit late, but dedicated to Castle's finale "Always". Perfect song, perfect episode, perfect show!)<em>

Editors note: AHH! CASTLE FINALE! (Sorry, couldn't help myself.)


	29. Faith

**Genre**_**:**__ Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, I was going to name it iSam, and everything that happened would be different and I wouldn't troll anyone because I don't appreciate people playing with my fangirl feelings!_

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OOC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

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><p>Life is good.<p>

At least right now it is. I've come a long way, and where I am right now is a true blessing. I never imagined in this lifetime that I would be so happy, so loved and so in love. It seems surreal that this is all happening to me, and it's all mine. I keep asking myself who I should be thanking for this, who I should be thanking for putting Freddie in my life, and even though I believe in God, it's been so long since I thought about it that it's hard to finally realize he's up there.

There was a time I used to think that God had left us behind – I thought he gave up on us. So I stopped thinking about him, and just accepted that there was no one up there. My grandmother always took us to church on Sundays and made us pray before going to bed. But when things started to go wrong, I prayed many times and things still got worse, so I just lost faith altogether.

Sometimes I lie awake at night thinking of how fortunate I am and how I can never take any of this for granted. I just wish…I just wanted my sister to have the same as me, I just wanted to be able to do something for Melanie, something to make her life better…I shake my head, pushing the sad thoughts away from me. I don't want to be in a funky mood when Freddie gets home.

Freddie. This is all because of him. My life is so complete, and in many ways perfect, because he is in it, because he is who he is. I smile and take the lasagna out of the oven, knowing how much Freddie loves it. I make it at least once in a week. He can't ever get enough of it, and last week he almost ate the whole thing. I chuckle, thinking about how a lasagna can make Freddie's appetite as fierce as mine.

I remember to save some for Carly and Brad. The other day she banged on my kitchen door when I was cooking. Apparently, she can smell things from a mile away, and now that she's pregnant she's been craving my lasagnas, so I always save some for her.

Pregnant. She is having a baby. And she asked me to be the godparent. At first I wanted to scream yes, but I didn't know if Freddie would agree. He doesn't talk much about kids, and sometimes he avoids talking about Brad's kid, so it was a bit odd how he came to me the other day, telling me he promised Brad he was going to be the godparent of his child. It was what I wanted, but it was so out of the blue and sudden that I got a little suspicious, but maybe he just did a lot of thinking and decided not to deny his friend that.

I finish the lasagna and can't help but take a bite of it. It tastes so good my eyes go rolling back inside my sockets. I rub my stomach and groan in pure pleasure when I hear a knock on the door.

"I smell it." Carly says, sniffing the air.

"Like clockwork." I laugh.

"It's your fault! You can't cook amazing things next to a pregnant lady!" She chuckles, walking into the kitchen.

"Lucky for you I saved some before Freddie gets home."

I walk to the other side of the kitchen counter, and grab a small bowl of lasagna for Carly.

"Oh…" She extends her arms and opens her hands to welcome the food I offer her, and groans in pleasure. "Oh God! Better than sex, isn't it?"

"I don't think so." I say with a laugh. "I think I like sex a little more, but Freddie might prefer the lasagna."

Carly laughs and takes a bite of the lasagna. I've never seen Carly eating with her hands before, and for some reason that makes me laugh. She smiles and licks her fingers afterwards.

"This lasagna is the only thing capable of making me act un-lady like."

"That's just the baby talking." I say, looking down at her stomach.

Carly smiles and places a hand over her belly, rubbing it carefully. She has a small bump already, and although I find it rather cute, every time I look at it I feel a little…I don't know, I feel this ache in my chest that catches in my throat, leaving my mouth dry.

"You want to feel it?"

The baby hasn't moved yet, but she's always holding on to her stomach, or asking people if they want to touch her bump. The other day she asked Freddie and he got oddly uncomfortable and told her he had to do something, just as an excuse to run out of the room.

"Sure."

This is not the first time I've put my hand on Carly's belly, and each time my heart hurts a little bit more. I'm trying to come to terms and accept that I am jealous. As much as I tell myself that it's bullshit, that I shouldn't be jealous of someone's baby, I still feel a little envious deep down inside, and I hate myself for that. I don't do it on purpose and I'm not jealous because she is pregnant, I'm just jealous that I am not…which doesn't make any sense, as I keep telling myself every time.

"I can't wait to feel him moving. I wish he would just move already, but the doctor says I have to wait a little longer. But he is healthy. So I don't have to worry."

"But you still do." I say, removing my hand from her stomach. "You're just being a mother, Carly, it's normal."

"I'm really scared." She confesses, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Of what?" I say, standing in front of her. "What are you afraid of?"

"I don't know…being a mother, not being a good mother. I don't know, Sam…of going through this alone?"

"Hey," I say, rubbing her arm. "You're not alone in this. You have Brad, he's going to be a great father."

"I know, I know…but Brad doesn't understand what it's like…he can't understand. I'm the one carrying the baby, and I'm afraid because I don't know how to deal with this. I wish you were pregnant, so we could both go through this together. You know what I mean?"

I shiver a little, and move uncomfortably.

"So...you think you have enough lasagna there for you and Brad?" I ask, desperately trying to change the subject.

"Sam? Did I say something wrong?" She asks apprehensively.

"No. Not at all…I'm just wondering if I have enough for you and Brad there." I smile nervously.

"You do, but don't change the subject, Sam. Do you not feel comfortable talking about this with me?"

"No, It's not that…it's just…"

"You don't want kids anymore? You said you did." She speaks in a soft, apologetic tone, and it makes me feel guilty somehow.

"I do, I do… I'm just not sure if Freddie does." I confess with a tired sigh.

That has been on my mind lately. The way he refuses to finish intercourse inside of me kind of serves as a hint. I'm not that stupid, and I know where babies come from. I just feel like he's been avoiding it, and he won't even talk about it and that upsets me, because pushing the problems aside was what caused us trouble the first time. I just wish he would talk to me, but I don't want to push it, because I might be wrong, and by bringing up the subject, I'll be confessing my desire to be a mother, and I'm not sure if I'm ready for that yet.

"You think he doesn't want to have kids?" She asks me, seeming a little too shocked.

"I don't know."

"Did you ask him if he wanted to?"

"No I just…" I groan in frustration. Why is this so hard to talk about?

"Then how come you think he doesn't want to?"

"I don't know, Carly. I just don't. We don't talk about it and he…he doesn't…he doesn't…" I start to stammer out of embarrassment.

"Doesn't what?" She pushes.

At that moment I hear the front door closing and I snap out of it, trying to look as normal as possible for Freddie. Carly drops the subject when Freddie walks into the kitchen. He seems a little upset, probably tired from work, and I feel the need to walk over and hug him, but I won't, not with Carly here – public displays of affection have never really been my thing.

"Hey baby…hey, Carly. Hi."

"Hey, Freddie." She answers.

He doesn't seem very happy to see Carly, or he's just not happy in general. I frown. Something is wrong with him. Freddie walks towards me and greets me with a soft kiss on the cheek. Again, I've never been the one for PDA, but I don't reject him or pull away, noticing how upset he looks. Carly must've noticed the change in his mood too, because she clears her throat and prepares to leave.

"I'm going to leave you two lovebirds alone, thank you for the lasagna, Sam. Bye, Freddie."

"You're welcome. Bye,Carly."

"Goodbye, Carly." Freddie waves at her before leaning against the kitchen counter.

Carly nods and walks out of the kitchen, closing the door silently behind her. Once she's gone, I turn to my husband, and he puts both his hands on my waist, pulling me close. Before I can say or ask anything, Freddie has me in a tight embrace. I relax into him and let him hug me as much as he likes. I start to feel this fear creeping inside my chest. I'm scared he's slipping away again, that he's going to go back to that dark place I've seen him before, but then he pulls away and kisses me softly on the lips.

"What's wrong, baby?" I ask, running my nails lightly over his scalp because it always makes him relax.

"It's time, Sam." He sighs.

"Time for what?" I try not to freak out for his sake – I want him to think I'm strong, for him. I need him to know I'll be there, solid as a rock.

"We have to join the congregation." He says with a tired voice.

"The what?"

"The church. We need to start going to church. They announced it today."

"Oh…and that's bad because?"

"Isn't it bad enough they force us to live by their terms and use us like pawns and now they want to choose my religion for me too?" He roars.

He pulls away from me, walking around in circles, running his hands through his hair, and I'm still not sure what is so bad about this. Visualize has made us do worse things, so going to church isn't all that scary for me. Sure, the fact that I've been raised going to the place must make it easier for me to accept. I don't know what Freddie's religious background is, and maybe he has a bigger issue with that than I do.

"Freddie…" I start, "it isn't so bad. Come on. We'll go, listen to the priest, and then go back home. It's not like they're going to make us do things like…eat human flesh or anything…like an illuminati ritual, right?" I joke, trying to light up the mood.

"No, Visualize is a catholic organization, Sam, they don't eat human flesh." He says, annoyed.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help here. Maybe if you tell me what the problem is, it would make it easier for me." I defend myself.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry, baby." He hugs me, kissing my neck and cheek, apologizing against my skin. "It's not your fault, I'm sorry, I was an idiot."

"You don't have to feel guilty. I'm a big girl, Freddie, not everything you say hurts me, especially when I know you didn't mean it." I say, taking his face between my hands.

"Sorry…I'm just…I can't, Sam. I can't go." He says, trying to pull away from me, but I won't allow him.

"Why, huh? Tell me why. Please?" I lock my hands at the back of his neck to prevent him from pulling away.

"I can't go to a catholic church because I'm Jewish." He says with a sigh.

"Oh…I didn't know that." I loose my grip on him a little bit.

"Yeah…I thought…I just thought that my religion would be the only thing they would allow me to keep, but apparently I was wrong."

Freddie moves away, sitting down in a kitchen chair. He takes his face in his hands and places his elbows on the table. It's odd, because Freddie never puts his elbows on the table – that was something his mother taught him. I sigh, not sure what to say. I'm no good dealing with problems, but I'm horrible in giving advice or religious counseling. I wish I could just call Dr. John right now and ask him for help. I get why he is so upset - having people controlling your whole life isn't in any way pleasant, but when they try to change your beliefs…that's really fucked up.

Free will used to be a right that belonged to every person, but this is Visualize. They do what they want and they don't care who they hurt. Perhaps they should be more careful with how they use their power. I don't know…history has proved that when the human being is put under severe pressure they tend to react as desperately as possible. This whole mess started because of people who thought they could rule the world, and it never ends well.

"I wish I knew the right words to say." I say, sitting on the chair next to him. "But I don't. I have no idea what I should say to you that will make you feel better, and I hate that."

He sighs and reaches for my hand, intertwining our fingers.

"You don't have to say anything, baby. It's all right."

"But I do. I like to be able to make you feel better, whether you're sad or stressed out. I just like having this ability of making things seem less bad than they are to you."

"You already do that Sam, all the time, just by existing." He says, kissing the back of my hand. "You have no idea what your presence does to me. The way you affect me…no one else has ever affected me the way you do."

I smile and move from the chair to his lap. He welcomes me, wrapping his arms around me as always. And every time I'm there, I find that I'm so comfortable in his arms, everything is so natural, like it's meant to be. But the realization that I may not be able to give him the kind of comfort he needs at the moment makes me feel a little irritated with myself. I should be the one with the right words to say, at any moment, just like he does with me, despite the fact that I've never been good in expressing myself. It's my job to be his safe place, like he is my safe place. No, scratch that. It's my _desire_ to be his safe place and everything else that he needs me to be – just like he is to me.

"Still, I should be able to find the right words that will give you some sort of comfort right now."

"Hey," he holds my chin to lift my head up, "you really want to comfort me?"

"I do."

"How about you let me hug you for as long as I want, then you and I can eat some lasagna, which smells really good by the way, and afterwards take a nice bubble bath, huh? What do you say to that?"

"I'm down with that." I smirk. "Especially the bath part."

"With bubbles…" He whispers in my ear.

"Mmm…tickling bubbles?" I close my eyes and let the mind wander.

"Oh, there is going to be tickling ma'am…just not from the bubbles…" He takes my earlobe in between his teeth and tightens his hold on my waist.

"Can we skip dinner?" I gasp, grabbing onto his shoulders.

"Or…we can take dinner with us." He winks.

"Lasagna in the tub?" I laugh.

"Old studies show that experiencing new things improves the sex life of any couple." He says with a cheeky grin that always gets me going.

"Lasagna in the tub it is." I say, jumping off his lap and heading straight to the oven.

"I find it extremely sexy that you are, at this moment, more enthusiastic about this whole 'food in the bath thing' than I am." Freddie says, snorting a little bit at the end.

"Oh shut up!" I say, throwing the dishrag in his direction, but he dodges it.

"Please baby, I know just how much you love a good tumble. Hey!" He exclaims when I throw a wooden spoon at him. "I can't blame you there, though. I'm an excellent, above average lover. Just exceptional."

"Freddie!" I warn him. "Keep going with this and you'll be sleeping on the couch tonight, with no lasagna, bubble bath or a good tumble, as you say."

"Harsh!" He says, putting his hand over his heart. "But I'll zip it now."

"You better! Take the damn tray." I say, handing him the lasagna.

He takes the tray and climbs the stairs, laughing. As I'm following him, I realize that without even trying or knowing the right words to say, I made him feel better. I didn't have to use the biggest letters in the dictionary, or give him a speech to take his mind off the problem. I smile softly, feeling a little proud of myself. Maybe I'm not so bad at this. Still, it will be there tomorrow, the problem will stay unsolved, and there's no amount of lasagna that will make it go away.

* * *

><p>I watch Freddie from the corner of my eye. He's sitting uncomfortably in his seat, wearing a jacket and tie. I look down at my own dress that reminds me of some of the old clothes my grandma used to wear. I asked Carly to pick it up for me, because it's my first day in church and I didn't know what was appropriate to wear. Turns out she chose the worst one in the bunch and now I look like an old lady, with a dress that goes from my neck to my knees.<p>

But that's not where my mind is right now. As we drive to church, I feel Freddie tensing up more and more with each mile. I know this is difficult for him, I know very well what it's like – I just wish there was something I could do to make him feel better. The other day I expected to distract him with food and sex, but for the most part we just sat there in the tub, holding each other in complete silence. I considered talking to Brad, because he knows Freddie really well, on a deep level, but I didn't know where to begin.

Although his problems with religion concern me, I have thoughts of my own disturbing my mind. The closer we get to the sixth month, the more I realize I want a child. I keep fighting against it, trying to convince myself that it's just a stupid reaction to Carly's pregnancy, and I want so bad to not want this – but I just do. Every time I see Carly touching her belly, or hear her talking about her child, I realize I want one, and I want it soon. I still have at least three months or so to go, but still, this is not something I _have_ to do anymore, it's something I _want_ to do.

Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't want to get knocked up at eighteen, but under normal circumstances I wouldn't be married at eighteen either. But normal went out the window a long time ago and I don't know what normal used to be anymore. If the war never happened and Visualize never happened, I'd be in Texas now, living on the farm with grandma and probably working in some bar around town.

I wouldn't even know Freddie, and I bet he'd be somewhere nice…like a fancy college or something. College used to be a place where people went to decide their future, learn a profession and have a career, but it doesn't exist anymore. I try not to think about it, because it makes me – unconsciously – glad that things happened the way they did, and that is just sick and twisted. But to be completely honest, if there hadn't been a war, and if it wasn't for Visualize, I wouldn't have met the best thing that has ever happened to me, and knowing myself, I know I wouldn't be able to love anyone else this much under normal circumstances – and because no guy can ever compare to my Freddie.

I look out the window, then turn my head to look at Freddie. He's just sitting there, focused on the road, his jaw tense. I've known this for a while, but I have to admit that my husband is one handsome man. He has perfect features. The man sitting beside me is a strange combination of perfect things that makes him perfect as a whole. It's like God chose the best nose from the bunch to pair up with the sweetest pair of eyes, added extremely kissable lips, and handmade eyebrows. Then he gave him a body of a Greek God and a soul of an angel. Add all that up and you get a package full of perfection.

And his soul, his amazing soul, is the best part of it all. It makes me wonder how someone can witness so much horror and despair and still manage to be so good. The main reason why my uterus is aching for a child is the certainty that Freddie would be an amazing father. The way he takes care of me, the way he cares, the way he loves me tells me every day that he would be a perfect father. But I don't know how he feels about having children – we never really got to talk about that.

Sometimes I think about starting a conversation, but then this sudden nervousness takes over me and the words get stuck in my throat. It's so stupid, though, because Freddie makes me feel so comfortable, like I can talk about everything with him…well, everything but that. Family is a delicate issue for me, because I never really had one, not a real family with a mother and father, living in a white house with the picket fence. And I can't help but want that now that I know I can have it. It's stupid to want children just to fill some hole in my heart and mend my broken childhood.

"Here we are." Freddie says, his voice heavy, his eyes hard.

"Freddie." I start. "I…I…don't really know what to say right now."

"It's okay, babe. I know I'm blowing this way out of proportion. It's no big deal, it shouldn't be anyway. I probably need to thank God for giving me you."

He takes my face in his hands, caressing my cheeks with his thumbs, and I sigh, closing my eyes for a second. I love this man, in a way I never thought, wished, or dreamed I could love someone, and I'd do anything for him. Still, right now, I'm not able to find the right words to say.

"I think that I don't know what to say because…well, when I was little I used to go to church with my grandma. I wouldn't call myself catholic, but I can say that I've never known another religion."

"So that's why you're so cool about this…" he muses. "I was finding it a little odd that you weren't complaining at all."

"Well, yeah. At least I guess so. Or probably, I just…feel a little more comfortable with God right now, because he gave me you. There were times I wondered if there was a God out there at all, but then I look at you, and everything that happened to you, and yet you still manage to be amazing. That's when I know there must be some higher power out there, because you're too good to be true."

Freddie smiles and kisses me softly on the lips. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against mine.

"I love you, you know that?" He asks.

"Of course I do, silly." I say with a smug grin before he kisses me again.

"Tell me this isn't so bad, and I'll believe you." He whispers.

"I don't know how a Visualize church works, so I can't say for sure. I'm still not one hundred percent convinced that they won't make us eat each other's flesh…" I say and he laughs, "I guess, what I can say right now is that I'll be right there by your side, and I don't know if that makes you feel better, but I'm there for whatever you need."

"It's everything I need." He says, looking deeply into my eyes. "You there is everything I need and more, Sam."

"So this will be easier than you expect." I say, and then give him a loud and sloppy kiss.

"Alright, let's get going then."

Freddie sighs heavily, and then pulls away from me. We've gotten so close, and I think I know him so well that I can tell by the way he moves that he's not totally convinced by my words. I leave the car, feeling defeated, but my thoughts leave me for a moment when I look at the place in front of me. I don't know if I should call this a church or a castle, because that's what it seems to be.

I don't know chiz about architecture, but I sure can admire a good work when I see one. When Freddie said we were going to the church, I imagined a small, white chapel, like the one I used to go with to with my grandma, not…a huge castle made of stone. It's so big that it becomes intimidating to me, and I think that's exactly what Visualize wants. The windows are tall, almost seven feet tall, I believe. They're painted with colors like red, green and maroon so you can't see inside.

Once I saw a movie about Dracula, and he lived in a horrifying castle, which by the way, I can used to define where I am right now. The parking lot where I'm standing with Freddie right now is wide and open. At least five cars are parked in this section, not counting the ones that are still coming.

"Oh boy…" I say.

"This place looks like the freaking dwelling of Frank-N-Furter." He whispers.

"Who?"

"It's this guy from this movie…never mind, it looks like the castle of Frankenstein."

"That I can agree on." I say, looking around.

"Well, I don't see how this night can get any weirder."

I nod, watching the people exiting their cars and walking into the church. I concentrate my attention on the kids, who by the way, look as scared as I am right now. And I don't know why, but I start to envision a series of sacrifices occurring inside that place. Children being ripped apart and served as meals to the adults is the one that actually makes me flinch and grab Freddie's hand.

"And I don't know how these mothers can bring their children to a place like this. Look at their faces, they're so scared right now."

"Maybe they don't have a choice, Sam. None of us have a choice. None of these kids stand a chance. Don't you see? They're already doomed. Brad's son is already doomed, and any other kid that's still to come is doomed. It would be better if none of them were born."

The tone of his voice and the way he say it makes my heart ache. I feel like I've just been punched in the gut. How can he say that? A child is a blessing no matter the circumstances.

"How can you say that?"

"How can I…?"

He's about to say something, but I guess the look on my face tells him to stop. I've never been so hurt…I can't believe he would say something like that. I must've heard wrong – I must have.

He sighs, and takes me into a tight embrace, but I don't respond – I'm still shocked.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You're right, Sam. This place is getting to me…I think you were right – they must've been doing some sort of witchcraft in there. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it." He whispers.

I wrap my arms around him, finally able to relax my body against his. I knew he didn't mean it. I know he doesn't mean it. I think he's just upset about this whole ordeal, and I understand. But still, a little smear of doubt remains in the back of my mind. I really need to gather some balls and talk to him about this subject. I can't keep pushing it away like I did the first time, and I can't let him avoid it either. I know Dr. John said he doesn't deal well with confrontation, but this is something we have to deal with. I need to know if we're on the same page.

Maybe I just need him to want this as much as I do, otherwise…I won't know how to deal with it.

"Hey, are you guys going to stay outside or are you coming in?" I hear Brad asking from behind me.

"Oh…hey." Freddie says, pulling his arms away from me.

"Are you guys coming in?" Carly asks with her hand over her stomach, and sometimes I just wish she'd stop doing that.

"Yeah, sure." I say.

"I didn't think you would make it. Actually, I had this image of you jumping out of your car in the middle of the highway and running back to the house." Brad teases Freddie, wrapping his arm around Freddie.

"Shut up, Brad, seriously." Freddie retorts, pushing his arm away.

Carly laughs, moving away from the boys and close to me, bumping shoulders with me.

"So?" She starts.

"So?"

"Did you talk to him? Ask him about…you know what?" She whispers, grabbing me by the arm and walking behind the boys.

"No…not yet."

"Sam!"

"I will, okay? I just need some time to gather my thoughts, get my head in the right place and...I'll talk to him, but not now. He's having a hard time accepting he has to go to church and I don't want to give him anymore trouble."

"So instead you just keep it to yourself?" She more implies than asks, one hand on her hip. "You can't do that, Sam. That's what caused you trouble the first time around, remember? Don't think Freddie can't handle it, because he's stronger than he looks, and although I don't know him all that well, I know he won't leave you alone with a problem anymore."

"I'll think about it. I just need to figure out how to talk to him about that. I don't know where to start." I confess.

"Maybe you should ask Dr. John. I don't know, he knows how to treat Freddie, he'll probably know how to advise you in this situation."

That is a actually a very good idea. I can call his office Monday and set up an appointment. If there is anyone who'll know how to deal with this, it's him.

"I'll try that." I tell her.

"Try what?" Freddie turns his head and asks me.

I freeze for a moment, thinking he heard our conversation, but then he moves to my side and grabs my hand, acting totally normal.

"Try what?" He asks again.

"Uh…ah…this recipe for…a homemade bread I was telling Carly about the other day. I told her I was going to try to make some, and she suggested that I try putting on a little bit of…cinnamon."

"Oh…sweet bread?" He asks.

"Yeah. Uh-huh." Carly confirms with a nod.

"Nice."

We're at the door when he stops walking. He looks inside, and it's like his feet can't move, like he's stuck in place. I feel him holding my hand a little bit tighter, and I rub his arm to help him relax.

"Come on, baby…we can do this." I whisper in his ear.

"I will…I just…need a second." He gulps loudly.

"Okay, alright." I kiss his cheek and continue to rub his arm until he lets out a huge breathe and nods.

"I'm ready."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. Let's go."

After the first step, Freddie seems to relax a little more and he's able to walk down the aisle. I feel weird, in a good way, walking into a church with him. I didn't think about this at the time, in fact it was the last thing in my mind, but right now, I really wish we had married in the church. It seems silly right now, it's actually pretty stupid since I don't like dresses and that sort of frivolities, but still…it would have been nice, I suppose. Maybe one day I can marry my daughter in a church.

"Over here." Carly calls, and I spot Wendy and Gibby.

Just when we're about to walk towards our friends, someone takes Freddie by the shoulder. My husband turns around, his body tense, but I see him smile when he sees the person, and when I see the person, I find it odd Freddie's smiling at him.

"Fredward, my dear." He greets.

"President Wells, so nice to see you, sir." Freddie says, a little too eager for my liking, and offers his hand for the man to shake.

"Please, Freddie, call me Antony. Are we going to have to go through this again?" He asks with a smile.

"Absolutely not, sir…but I'm sorry, I'm not able to, even if I wanted to, sir. I believe it's a result of the way my mother raised me." Freddie says, shrugging.

"Oh my boy, you are a fine young man, and I'm sure your mother did good work with you, being such a great nurse."

No one else would've noticed when Freddie's eyes got darker at the mention of his mother, but I did. Still, he doesn't stop smiling or makes any comment that will allow anyone to know how he's feeling.

"Indeed." He agrees. "So you see why I prefer to call you 'sir.'"

"Oh you have a good one right here." He tells me, noticing me for the first time.

"I know." I agree, not able to hide my awkwardness.

"How have you been doing, Mrs. Benson?"

President Wells takes my right hand and kisses it, but it doesn't seem to bother the woman standing by his side – his wife. And I don't think he means it like Frank Ellis means it anyway.

"Just fine." I say. "We were just going to find our seats."

"Oh, nonsense, you two can sit with me."

"We don't want to bother you, Sir." Freddie says with a fake politeness that scares me a little bit. His ability to lie and keep a poker face when he's next to this man scares me a little.

"Don't be silly, my boy." President Wells says, wrapping his arm around Freddie's shoulders and starts leading him toward his seats. "It's my pleasure."

I look over my shoulder as Freddie drags me by my hand, and watch the faces of Carly, Wendy and Gibby contort in pure confusion, but it's Brad face that concerns me the most. He looks at Freddie like he's proud or happy, and I don't understand. This is all just bullshit. How can Freddie act so polite and cynical around the president when I know he hates Visualize and everything that has to do with it?

Or maybe it's me.

Maybe I don't know my husband as well as I think.

* * *

><p><strong>~The CABAL~<strong>

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**From fluff, to face melting angst.**

**The Cabal authors produce the best.**

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* * *

><p><em>AN: So, I know it's been forever and the chapter isn't all that great, but I've been having a few personal problems to solve and my mind haven't been on writing lately. I so needed to get this religious thing out of my system though, it took me to long, but at least now I did. I'm sorry guys, I'm going to try to work on a better chapter next time, I'm just really on the middle of a hurricane right now, but I'll try, I promise._

_Here's something about next chapter: _

_"Most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it." (George R.R. Martin - A Game of Thrones)_

_**Edited by clarskonfan of course!**_

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><p><em>George Michael – Faith (I love this man!)<em>


	30. Talk That Talk

**Genre**_**:**__ Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, I was going to name it iSam, and everything that happened would be different and I wouldn't troll anyone because I don't appreciate people playing with my fangirl feelings!_

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OOC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

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><p>I'm spent. After a whole damn night in that church, I walked out of that place feeling at least twenty years older. The fact that I had to smile and use my best poker face to impress President Wells all night also factors into my exhaustion. The man invited me to watch the freak show from upstairs in his private seats, and how could I say no? The more we talked the whole night, the more that stupid idea of joining Visualize returned to me. And I tried to fight it, I tried to ignore it, but a voice in the back of my mind kept screaming and screaming it at me, never stopped, never left me alone.<p>

_Go for it._

_You know it's the best way out._

_You want to give Sam anything she wants, she wants this and you know it._

_Give it to her._

_Sacrifices were always yours to be made._

_You're used to it, but she's not._

_Go for it._

Something in me said she wouldn't understand, and from the looks she kept giving me tonight, I got all the confirmation I needed. As I drive back home, I sense the tension coming from Sam, the way she keeps her eyes focused out the window, and the way her body leans towards the door tells me she's upset. I know the way I acted was weird, and I know she doesn't understand, not yet, but this, like everything I do, is for her own good – her own safety.

Lately I've come to notice how she stares at Carly's stomach, and I know that even if it's not right now, someday she'll want children. How can I tell the woman I love, the one I promised the world to, that I can't give her something she wants so badly? Sure, I'm aware we have to have children, and we must start that soon, but still…I can't seem to conceal the idea of not wanting to put children out there in this world. Of course, there are ways I can guarantee they'll be safe, that they won't be sent away from me – from us – but for that I need to take a huge risk, with no certain outcome. I'm just not sure Sam would understand.

Try as I might, I can't seem to shake the feeling that I can do something, anything, to guarantee the safety of my children – of my wife even. And that's what motivated me tonight to act like a circus idiot. My dignity and pride went out the window, and I felt like...well, like shit, but if it's the only way, then it's the only way. I have to man up and take the hit. The only thing that makes me hesitate is the fact that this could all be in my head. Sure, Frank Ellis said what he said, but can I really trust his word? He's scum, a piece of shit, and he could very well be lying his ass off.

I shake my head and park the car in our garage. This whole thing is stupid, and I shouldn't even be thinking about it. The idea never left my head, but I can already foresee the outcome – and it's going to cost me more than I'm willing to lose.

Sam walks ahead of me, not even bothering to wait until I get out of the car. I'm in for a long night, but I'm so tired. I just don't want to argue. I climb the stairs and find out she's not in the bedroom. I'm about to panic when I hear the water running in the bathroom. I sigh and turn the doorknob, but the door is locked.

_I don't want you here, _I can almost hear her saying.

I knew she wouldn't understand. She _won't_ understand, maybe not now, maybe not ever. And I'm not willing to lose her trust and respect in exchange for anything. Is that selfish of me? Yes, I'm aware, but after years and years of living hopeless and unhappy, I think I deserve some – but at what cost? I'm just so tired. I don't want to think, I don't want to talk, I just want to sleep next to my wife, because my love for her is the only thing I'm sure of at the moment.

Sam exits the bathroom dressed in one of my oversized shirts. My mouth opens, but no words come out, so I give up and walk into the bathroom to shower all by myself. As the cold water runs down my back, I rub my temple and try to relax. Breathe in and out, count to ten, and think about positive things. I cannot let myself feel bad right now. I won't go there, I can't – I don't have the luxury to put up a show anymore. Regardless of what I need right now, what I don't need must be the top priority, and I don't need trouble. I don't need any trouble of any kind right now, so I suck it up and turn off the water.

She's already lying on her side when I walk back into the bedroom, and I know better than to touch her, or maybe I just don't want to. I'm too tired to deal with her pulling away from me. If Dr. John was here right now he would say that I should talk to her, tell her exactly what's been on my mind, but he's not, so I just turn off the lights and go to sleep. I'm so tired that sleep finds me the moment I close my eyes. I just want to rest and forget about everything.

* * *

><p>When the morning comes, I wake up to an empty bed, but this time I don't freak out. My body feels heavy, my eyes want to close and never open again. Flashes of what happened last night keep haunting me, just when I don't want to think about – ever again. I turn around and lay my head on Sam's pillow. Her scent is all over it. The way her hair always smells like vanilla drives me insane.<p>

I hated the look she had on her face last night, like she was disappointed in me – like she didn't know me anymore. I don't ever want her to look at me like that again, and maybe I need to stop wanting to protect her from everything and share what I've been thinking with her. Sam is as strong as me, if not more. She's not a little girl, she can deal with this. But she shouldn't have to. I'm her husband, it's my job to protect her and I feel like I'm failing at it.

Since the day she got here, I told myself that I wasn't going to put her through anymore suffering, and that's what I've been trying to do ever since, but failing miserably. That's why I pushed the sex subject to the side for so long. I didn't want her to feel like she needed to do something she was not ready for. And that's why I'm doing what I'm doing right now. But since the first time worked so damn well, this time could only be worse.

Maybe I should just get used to the fact that I'll have to have kids, that at some point they will be taken away from me, and there isn't a thing I can do about it. Maybe, if I prepare myself for it long enough, it won't hurt so much when the time comes. If I don't get attached to them…maybe it won't hurt so badly.

Who am I even kidding? How could I not love something that comes from Sam? Something we made together out of the love we feel for each other? Of course I'll love these kids, and because I know that, I know that I'm going to suffer, no matter what. And even if I succeeded, it wouldn't matter, because Sam would hurt anyway, and what hurts her, hurts me. In the end, I'm doomed either way.

"I'm so screwed."

Waking up to an empty bed had me thinking about two things. One is that I don't ever want to wake up alone ever again, and I'd do whatever it takes not to be without her. And two is that if I keep that stupid idea of joining Visualize in my head, I might as well get used to sleeping alone. I sigh, forcing my body to get up and walk to the bathroom for a shower. Hopefully the cold water will do me some good. But in the end, it's no use, not when I go downstairs and find that Sam's not in the kitchen, or even in the house.

I start to panic. Where did she go? Where did they take her? Did somebody break into the house and take her away from me? I keep thinking that someone from Visualize, probably Frank Ellis, stormed into the house and took my Sam away from me. My blood starts to boil and my palms starts to sweat. I feel this thing coming up from somewhere and crawling inside my chest, and soon I'm starting to lose control of my own mind.

Someone came and took her away from me.

I grip the back of a chair, trying so hard to breathe, but it's no use and soon I'm suffocating. What will I do? _What will I do?_ I need to get her back. Where is she? Where did they take her? Is she hurt? Is he hurting her? I'll kill him – I'd kill anyone who would even try.

My breath leaves me, and it feels like my lungs stopped functioning. I groan, taking the sides of my head and gripping my hair as hard as I can. A pair of hands come from behind me, but I'm faster. I let the animal from the war creep up into me again, and I turn around as fast I can and grab the person by the neck. I push them against the nearest wall and tighten my grip until I realize who it is.

"Freddie!" He pleases weakly.

"I…I…"

I let go of Brad's neck and fall straight onto the floor. My hands cover my face and I'm covered in sweat as I try to breath. I hurt him – again.

"Freddie…"

Brad puts both hands on mine, forcing them off of my face. I lift my head and see him kneeling on the floor right in front of me. His neck is bruised, I can see each mark of my finger on it, but Brad is tanned, and unlike me, his skin is not that sensitive, and I know his bruises will heal sooner than mine ever did – all of his bruises.

"Do you still want me as your kid's godparent?" I ask weakly, choking out a small laugh, but he doesn't find it funny. "Sorry, bad joke."

"Really bad." He says. "What happened? What happened to you? Did you forget to take your meds again?"

The moment I remember why I was freaking out, panic fills me again.

"Sam…she's not…they took her! Tell me where!" I say, grabbing the front of his shirt.

"Freddie, calm down!" He hisses, holding my wrist, but not pushing my hand away. "Calm down!"

"No! You tell me where they took her!"

"Shh!" He shushes me, probably afraid someone will hear us and take me to the loony bin again. "She's out with Carly! She's out buying baby clothes!"

I don't let go of him, not until I'm sure he's telling the truth.

"I swear! And if you don't believe me, just read the note she left for you on the fridge." He whispers.

I release Brad and stumble on my feet as I walk weakly to the fridge. On the door there is a piece of paper with Sam's handwriting on it.

_Freddie,_

_I'm going to the mall with Carly, or whatever they call that place where they sell things. There is food for you in the oven._

_I'll be right back._

_Sam._

The longest sigh of relief escapes my lips and I press my forehead against the fridge. She's fine. She's fine. She's fine. No one is going to take her away from me anymore – I just have to make sure she's safe. I need to protect her and our kids. But how can I have kids when I'm this unstable? How can I be a father like this? I will freak out my own children! How could Dr. John have told those people I was fit to be a husband and a father? I'm far from it. I'm dangerous.

"How can they think I'd be fit for this life?" I ask Brad.

"What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you just see me? I didn't find her and the first thing that came to my mind was that she was gone, hurt or maybe even dead. And then I freaked out, because I'm so weak. My mind is weak Brad. I'm dangerous to be around. I shouldn't be fit to be a husband and a father. My doctor should've never released me."

"And if he didn't you would never have met Sam, and she could be married to another guy, someone who could be hurting her, and she could've been another Celina! Don't you see, Freddie? You might not be good, but you're good for _her_!"

"How can I be good? Didn't you see her face last night?" I cry out, turning around to face him. "She'll soon see that I'm no good. She'll realize it! When she knows what I'm thinking…she'll never look at me the same way again."

"What are you thinking?" He asks me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I could always trust Brad with my secrets, fears or lies, but I don't know if I can tell this to him now. I don't know if I want to. Perhaps it's safer if I keep it to myself for a while, because if something happens, I don't want him to be involved.

"That I…that I don't want to have kids! There, I said it."

He shakes his head and looks down at his shoes. He always does that when he's about to try and talk some sense into my head. He did that a lot in the war, always trying to send me on the right path.

"Freddie…that's not something you can choose, you know that. It works out fine, and it's the best thing for everybody. The system works, you just have to give it a shot. It's working fine for everyone else, isn't it?"

"Just because I have to do it doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I'm not asking you to, but I know you and I know you'll love your kids no matter what. You say that now, but when you feel it moving for the first time, or when you hear its heartbeat for the first time, you're heart is going to implode with so much love, you won't be able take it."

"And that will make everything so much worse." I whisper.

"Freddie…tell me what's going on in your head." Brad pleas. "I'm your best friend, I'm your brother. Damn it, Freddie! You can tell me anything, you know I won't judge you! I'll listen. You can talk to me about anything."

I don't know if I'm ready to have this conversation with Brad, or if I ever will, because honestly, this is just too big and if it ends up blowing up in my face, at least he won't have anything to do with that. I've carried Brad down with my problems for too long, and I can't keep doing that anymore. It's bad enough that he has to worry about me all the time. I don't want him caught in the middle of this mess. He's going to have a child now, he has to worry about that, about his family, he has to find a way to keep _them _safe, not me. Meanwhile, I have to try to do the same.

"I just don't think I can be a good father." I say. And it's true – just not the whole truth.

"Freddie…" He sighs, and puts his hand on my shoulder. "You have this crazy ability to take care of people. You were always saving my ass out in the battlefield, and even after - you still do sometimes."

"No, now it's the other way around. Now you're the one saving me." And I can't keep letting that happen.

"Only because, after years and years taking care of people, you need someone to take care of you now. You're always trying to keep Sam happy, satisfied and safe, you take care of her and you don't care if she does the same for you. Even now, I'm trying to help and I can sense you pushing me away because you don't want to be a burden. Those are great qualities for a father to have. I know you, probably better than anyone else, and I know for sure that once you lay eyes on your child, or even before, just hearing its heartbeat, you're going to be filled with so much love for this child and you're going to do anything to keep them protected, happy and loved, just like you do with everyone else you care about."

I sigh and squeeze the bridge of my nose – if only it was that simple. I wish it was, but it's a lot more complicated than that. I won't be able to protect my children from the faith designed for them in a couple of years, and I don't think I can live with that. And I won't be able to live knowing that Sam will lose her children too, the ones I'm sure she'll love more than anything. I don't want to see on her face the look I saw on my mother's when they took me away – it still haunts me at night.

But am I willing to risk it all? And what if I throw everything I have now to the wind only to get nothing in return?

"I didn't want to have a baby either." Brad says, breaking me out of my trance. "You know? I wasn't very fond of the idea of having kids. I'm as unstable as you and I always wondered if it would better if I was on my own, just like you do too. But then one night I was lying awake in bed with Carly, and she snuggled close to me to lay her head on my chest. That was the first time she ever did that, and I don't know…being alone didn't seem so alluring anymore.

"And when she told me she was pregnant, I tried my best to be strong because she looked so vulnerable, but on the inside I wanted to run. Run away and just…disappear. I didn't want to have to deal with the responsibility, the uncertainty of it all…" I let my jaw hit the floor, surprised that he even thinks about that. "But then she asked me to go to the doctor with her and I heard the baby's heartbeat…I swear Freddie, my heart has never beat so fast. The feeling…I can't describe it to you, but suddenly I had the urge to protect him, to watch him grow up and teach him things. And those feelings, that need to run away, just…vanished."

I stare at my friend in disbelief. I want so bad to believe that the same thing will happen to me. That someday this fear I have will vanish and I'll be able to just look at my child and feel happy, but I don't know if I'll be able to. Because even if I do, the incapacity to protect them will kill me, and there isn't much else I can do. Sure, I can enjoy the years I'll have, and try to make the most of it, but it will only make things worse for me when the time comes.

"I'll think about it." I finally say. "I just…don't want to have to wrap my mind around it all right now, but eventually I will."

"Okay…" He gives up. "So? Now that the women are out shopping, what about you and I spend some time together? We never really did that whole barbecue in the back yard and baseball thing."

"It sounds good to me." I shrug. "But what will we do? I mean…there isn't much to do around here, except talking about drama and drama and more drama."

"I happen to have a glove and a bat. Wanna play?" He asks with a grin.

"What about a ball? We can't play without a ball. Or shall we use yours? I'll take the bat!" I raise my hand and chuckle.

"I have a ball, jackass. And you're never getting close to my balls with a bat ever again, I swear on my granny's grave!"

"Come on! It was an accident! You know I didn't mean to swing that hard…" I smirk. "But it was a good swing."

"Ugh! I still have nightmares about that game!" He groans.

"It's your own fault for being on the opposite team." I shrug.

"I was chosen to be on the opposite team!" He argues.

"Again, not my fault, so it's yours."

"Oh, shut up! I'll bring the stuff in a while, meet me in the backyard." He says, already walking out the back door.

"Or else you'll hit me in the balls?" I tease.

"I just might!" Brad yells.

"Yeah, because you succeeded so well the last time you tried." I chuckle.

"Shut up, Freddie! You better eat something before you play, I don't want you losing and saying it was because your stomach was empty."

I watch Brad walking out the door and try to keep myself in check. Maybe I should take a break from all the stress and enjoy the rest of the morning with my friend. I know the problems, all the drama will come knock me off balance once Sam gets home anyway. I might just relax a little bit right now before I have to face the problem. I'm done pushing things to the side, it's time to let Sam share some of the burden with me – just some, so she won't say she's out of the loop. I just don't want the same thing happening again when I left it to her to carry all the weight on her shoulders and eventually everything came crumbling down. I'm done being dumb, now it's time to play smart, and I know that if I want to, I can outsmart them all.

* * *

><p>Turns out that the game with Brad actually helped me get my mind off my problems for a while. As always, I won, because Brad pretty much sucks at baseball, and nothing feels better than a late morning victory on a cloudy day. It's a little past two in the afternoon when Sam arrives. I'm lying on our bed, just resting my eyes, wishing I could just listen to Aerosmith or something. I know she's home because I can hear the door closing and the sound of her loud footsteps on the stairs. She's stomping her feet, just like I did when I was angry with her.<p>

I sigh, pressing her pillow harder against my face. It has her scent all over it, and I sniff it just because she smells so good. But I just can't stay here all day, buried in this bed and avoid life outside of this room – but it doesn't mean I can't wish I could. I have to talk to Sam. I have to man up and talk to her, because I want to solve our problems, and I want her to help me. I can't just hide here and lie to her and ignore the issue, and forget everything that happened the last time I tried to do that. If we're going to be a couple, we need to share everything, and if we're going through this together, then we need to be together, not mad at each other, not holding secret agendas.

She walks into the room and I remove the pillow from my face. I can see her back as she sits on the edge of the bed to remove her shoes and is massaging her neck. I can tell just by looking that she's stressed, her body is tense and she really could use a back massage. But that's not what I should be focusing on right now. Right on cue, she turns around to look at me with tired eyes. Maybe she didn't slept so well last night.

"You ate?" She asks.

"Yeah, I ate some of the lasagna from last night."

"Okay."

"How was shopping with Carly?" I ask, sitting up.

"It was exhausting." She turns around and starts to lift her shirt over her head.

I stare at the soft, smooth, creamy skin of her back, tracing my eyes over the line of her spine – I wish I could just reach out and touch her.

"But I'm here now, so I'm going to take a shower."

Sam gets up, walking into the bathroom, and I do nothing to stop her. I can talk to her after she's clean and bit relaxed, but it definitely needs to be tonight. I need to make things right.

I'm almost asleep when I hear her walking out of the bathroom. She has on one of my shirts and a pair of sweatpants I bought for her last month. For some reason I like her better in baggy clothes then when she wears one of those dresses Visualize chose for her, because I know this is something she wants to wear – it is her choice. Sam dries her hair with the towel, not even looking my way, and sits in front of her vanity to brush her hair.

"We need to talk." I blurt out.

"What about?" She plays dumb.

"Please, Sam. I'm trying to set things straight, to be honest with you, so we can share everything, like we should've the first time around."

Sam sighs, dropping her hairbrush and turning around.

"What do you want me to say, Freddie?"

"Whatever is on your mind. Whatever was on your mind last night, and please be honest, I can take it." I sit on the side of the bed, close to where she is.

"You want to know what was going through my mind last night as I watched you interact with that man like he was your best friend?"

"Yes."

"I thought I didn't know you. I thought you were someone else in that church, someone I didn't know, someone I didn't like. And I don't get why you did that."

"Sam…" I sigh. "I did that for the same reason I do everything else in my life since I met you. So you could be safe, so I could protect you. I did it for you and I'd do worse things and never regret them, if it means you'll be safe and happy."

"Why do you keep thinking about me all the time?" She cries out. "What about you? What about what you want, Freddie? What do you feel?"

"The only thing I want right now, the only thing I feel, is the need to protect you! Don't you see Sam, playing friend with these people might gives us the only chance we have to be safe!"

"What about your dignity? And your pride?"

"Fuck that! Screw my pride, Sam, I won't need it if I don't have you! I'd give that up and everything else if necessary!"

"Freddie…" She moves quickly to touch my face, almost desperately. "I don't want you to give up on yourself for me. I want to take care of you, too, and keep you safe as well, so why won't you let me? I love that you're trying to take care of me, but I also want to take care of you."

"And you do – you have no idea how much. I have no idea where I would be right now if I never met you, if I never loved you or was loved by you. I don't even think I'd still be alive, or maybe I would be, just not on the inside."

"Same here, pal." She says, squeezing my shoulders. "What I do to you…you do to me, too. I was so damn lost before I met you, and with you, I found myself, but I don't want you to lose yourself in the process."

"Sam…" I take her face in my hands gently. "What you don't know, baby, is that I'm able to adjust. During the war I developed the skillful ability to adjust to survive. Why do you think I'm still alive these days? I was a scrawny, scared little nerd when they took me away from my mother, and I had to evolve to stay alive, Sam. I won't lose myself, because I'm able to adjust to any situation." I lie.

It will take a lot of me to do what I'm planning to do, if necessary, and maybe I'll even lose a little bit of myself in the process, but I know that as long as she's alive, a part of me will live too and I can always count on that.

"You don't know that for sure." She says.

"Yes, you're right, I don't. But Sam, I know that as long as you're alive…I will be too. This Freddie that you see here right now, he'll always find his way back to you, because you're the only one who brings him back, the only thing that he'll ever come back for."

Tears spill out of her eyes, and she moves from the bench to sit on my lap. I cradle her close to my chest, kiss the top of her head and promise her everything will be okay. I know that logically my promises are empty, that they have no significant value, but to her, they're needed – especially right now.

"I just…want to be able to do the same for you." She says. "I'm not a weak little girl Freddie, you don't need to protect me from the world."

Oh, but I do. There's so much she doesn't know yet, so much she haven't seen. Sam doesn't understand how this world works, yet, so I have to be there to guide her through this mess.

"I know you're not Sam, and I know you want to take care of me too. And you do, Sam. You can be there for me and understand me and support me even when you don't fully understand me. But mostly, I just need you to never forget that everything I do, I do it for you."

I feel Sam shaking with laughter against my chest, and I look down in confusion. What could possibly be so funny?

"What? Is my declaration of love amusing to you?" I ask seriously, but she only laughs harder. "What? You're freaking me out here!"

"It's just…just…" she chuckles."Sorry. What you just said…it was just…"

"What? What did I say?" I'm seriously freaking out.

"_Everything I do, I do it for you…_" she sings. _"Yeah, I would fight for you, I'd lie for you, walk the wild for you…"_

"_Yeah I'd die for you." _I start to sing along, very out of tune by the way. _"You know it's true…"_

"_Everything I do…I do it for you." _We finish together before cracking up.

Sam buries her face against the crook of my neck, her laugh dying a little against my skin, and I kiss the top of her head. We stay like that for a while, and I wish every day could be like this, and every problem could be so easy to fix. I knew she wouldn't hold that grudge against me for too long, but any grudge she holds against me makes me feel like shit.

"You don't want to have kids with me, do you?" She blurts out.

I freeze. I wasn't expecting her to just jump to the subject like this, without warning, without a proper conversation before leading up to this moment. And then I'm speechless. Usually, I'm really good with words, I'm articulate and most of the times I know just what to say, but right know I just stare at her with my mouth open. I try to talk, but only a few incoherent words escape my mouth.

"You said we should be honest with each other. I was honest with you, now it's your turn to be honest with me." She demands.

"You're right…I did say that…and…but…I…"

"You just didn't think I would have the balls to ask, right?"

"How…how come…? How do you…?"

"Please, Freddie, I might not be as experienced as you in that field, but I'm not stupid. I know why you don't want to come inside of me. You don't want to have kids, you don't want to get me pregnant. What I don't know, though, is why. Every time I try to talk to you about kids, you just change the subject. Although you accepted being Brad's kids godparent, you seem to run away from every talk about the baby when it comes up, like you don't want anything to do with him, or you're scared shitless. And I want to know why, Freddie. I want to know why you don't want to have kids."

I stare deep into her eyes, seeing the fear in them – fear of my answer – and I can't tell her. I can't kill her hopes and dreams. I can't kill her will to be a mother before she even has the chance. What if I fill her with my fears and doubts, and that changes her somehow? No, no way, I can't do that to her. I can't sacrifice her dreams, especially when I know she would be a great mother, and that would make her happy – and I want her to be happy.

"Sam…" I sigh, deciding to tell her half of the truth, which is worse than a whole lie, but it's what's best for now. "I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what, baby?" She takes my face in her hands. "Huh? What are you afraid of?"

"You've seen me, Sam. You know that I have a few screws loose. I don't think…I don't think I'd be a good father. I'm afraid to…to scare my own kids, I'm afraid that they'll see me like that, like you did…and I'm afraid to fail. I'm afraid of not being good enough."

The look she gives me has so much sadness in it, but it also glints with love. She brings my face closer to hers, so our foreheads are touching, and I want to lose myself in those eyes. They make me feel so safe, like the world is good and life is perfect. I hope at least one of my kids have those blue eyes of hers.

"Freddie, you can be so dumb sometimes." She chuckles.

"Gee, thanks."

"You're going to be a great father, and I'm so very sure that after we have kids, this fear inside of you will go away."

"How can you possibly know that?" I cry out.

"I just know! I look into your eyes and I see it. I would never want this so much if I didn't take one good look at you and know for sure you could be a great father! The way you take care of me, the way you love me and protect me…I just know you'll do the same for them. I know how much you love me, Freddie, and they are going to be something you and I did together. I just know you'll love them too."

"But I'm unstable and I'm-"

"So what? Not everyone is perfect, and in this fucked up world, you're one of a kind, Freddie. You're honest and brave, and you always do your best to keep me happy. You're so unselfish. God, you're the definition of generosity. I've never felt more loved, safe or happy then when I'm with you. I want to have you with me forever, and being able to have a part of you inside of me would be the greatest gift I could ever receive. This child will be half me and half you – the perfect combination of our right and wrongs. And things will be hard, nothing can ever be that easy, we know that already, but as long as we're together, we can always make everything worth the fight.

"I'm not perfect either, I have my own insanities, I have no clue what a real family looks like, and I have no idea what to do and how to behave, but I know that in our own way, you and me will make things work. We made this marriage work, didn't we? It was weird and difficult at first, but I can't even try to imagine myself without you right now. The same love we feel right now, we'll share with our children and I just know you'll do it right."

"How do you know that?" I ask, feeling completely vulnerable.

"Because of the way you love me, that's how I know for sure."

For a moment, I let myself feel safe in her embrace. I just stay there and let her words sink in – let them have an effect on me. Whether I'd be a good father or not is something I won't know for sure until the day comes, but hearing her talk about me like that actually makes me want to be as good as I can. Her high expectations of me destroy me and build me up at the same time, because I know I won't be able to live with myself if I don't achieve them, but also know that she's so confident I can do it that maybe I can be a little more confident with myself.

"Just don't think about all of this today." She suggests. "Let's just…you and me, rest a little, okay? Let's lie down on the bed, kick the problems to the side and just for today, be lazy and laid back. What do you say, huh?"

"Sounds great." I say, laying back on the bad, taking her with me.

She closes her eyes and lays her head on my chest. I want so bad to be the man that she sees in me, and I want to do things right, for us, for her, but I just don't know if I can. Regardless of what I can or cannot do, the priority is what I'll _have _to do, and hearing her talk about me like that actually helps me make up my mind. I just need time to figure out how I'm going to do this, a couple of months maybe. And I know that I'll need help, too, but I already know who to count on – I have in mind just who would help me.

Am I way ahead of myself? Yes. Am risking more than I'm willing to lose? Probably. Do I have any guarantees? No, not all. Will it be worth it?

I gaze down at my wife and catch her looking at me with admiration and love in her eyes – so much love I could actually drown in it. And then I know. I know for sure…

_Yes, it's worth it._

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><p><em>AN: I'm sorry again guys, I know I have been such a bitch by not updating, and I'm so not worthy of your patience, but here's a new chapter and I hope you like it. I know that they didn't talk about everything there is to talk about, I know that for the moment Freddie might think Sam is a weak little girl who can't defend herself, and that will cause problems in the future, and we'll just have to wait and see how it all will play out. Okay, so I know that have been a long time since I last updated, but I'm going to ask for more patience. For the first time, I don't know what to do with the events that will follow this chapter. I know what they are and how I'm going to write them, but I don't know in which order. I'm trying to figure it out, so if you guys could be a little more patient, I'm trying to fix this whole in my course of events._

_Since I have no idea which storyline I'm going to use for next chapter, there is no clues to give you guys, so I'm just going to ask you a question. Who is a fan of Game Of Thrones out there? I'd like to fangirl with somebody! And if you love Jon Snow as much as I do, let's be best friends!_

_**Edited by the always awesome clarksonfan**_

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><p><em>Rihanna – Talk That Talk (The song is dirty, it has nothing to do with the chapter, but for some reason, I love the name.)<em>


	31. It's Time

**Genre**_**:**__ Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, I was going to name it iSam, and everything that happened would be different and I wouldn't troll anyone because I don't appreciate people playing with my fangirl feelings!_

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, maybe a bit OOC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast**_

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><p><strong>Please read AN.**

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><p>The day starts pretty much the same as always. I wake up before Freddie, who went to bed late last night and take a shower. After I'm clothed, I make myself some coffee and cook breakfast. Usually, Freddie and I do it together, but he went to bed late the previous night, and he looked exhausted. He's been working a lot lately, and I just know it has something to do with this new Visualize building he's been working on, but I don't understand anything about construction, so I don't ask.<p>

After the conversation we had a few days ago, I feel like I'm one step closer to convincing Freddie about having a baby. I must confess that I don't like to be the instigator every time we have to do something important, but Freddie works at his own pace. And I'm not entirely sure yet if I can force his mind into working on things he's not ready for. I get that he is scared of having children, I am too. In a world like the one that we live in, having kids might not be the wisest decision, but again, this is not something we can choose.

Besides the fact that we have to keep up with Visualize's laws if we want to stay alive, I can't help but want to have this child. I know it sounds insane, I'm only seventeen, and in a normal world – like the one before – I'd still be in school. But I am older than the years I've been alive. After everything that happened, everything I went through, I think I grew up much too fast – I certainly left my childhood behind a long time ago. And even though I've been alive for only seventeen short years, it feels almost like a century – I'm sure Freddie feels it too.

I start to make some waffles and fry some bacon. While I wait for my waffles to be ready, I remember the girl I used to be. Tough, brave, and strong – nothing like the person that I am now. I know it sounds awful, but I think that I've became weaker since Freddie. I never really believed it when my aunt said that love weakened us as much as it made us strong. For one thing, I've grown stronger because he makes me feel safe and loved when I've never felt that before. And for another thing…I would normally never let anyone tell me what to do, or accept the fate that has been given to me. I guess that if I didn't think I was going to lose him all the time, I would be a different person right now.

So much has already been taken away from me. I've lost everyone and everything. I just know how bad it feels to be alone. I just don't want to lose him, and not only because it sucks to be alone or because I would probably be remarried…no, it's more, it's always been more. He became a part of me I can't let go of. But I also don't want to lose myself, only…I can't have one and the other. I have to choose between the girl who would never back down, and Freddie, the man that I love so desperately. Now I know how he feels. Now I understand his behavior. I sigh, feeling defeated knowing that this whole time I've been doing the very same thing I begged him not to do – I've been playing nice wife, hiding my true self so Freddie and I could be together.

I slap my forehead, cursing myself for taking so much time to understand what he was doing. _If you can't beat them, join them. _I can't beat them, he can't beat them, so all we can do is play by the rules if we want to stay out of trouble. I remember the times when trouble was all I sought and those were nice times, but the war came, and the word nice wasn't heard for a long time after. I guess we all will lose ourselves at some point. Maybe Freddie is right, and we gotta do what we gotta do, and all I can do is be there for him when he needs me.

"I think you're burning something." His voice breaks me out of my thoughts.

I turn around to see my husband dressed up very nicely, probably smelling very fresh and clean. He leans against the doorframe and smirks at me. I look up into his eyes that are brown like gravy, hot like summer, and I know that I wouldn't mind loosing myself in those eyes.

"Now I'm sure you're burning something." He says, hand pointing to the smoke coming from behind me.

"Damn it!"

The waffles. Damn it! I take them out and curse – they're black and burned. Great. I've been dying to eat waffles before my doctor's appointment today.

"Shit!" I curse.

"It's all right, baby." Freddie tells me with laughter in his voice. "I guess you were a little distracted."

"Don't mock me, Benson!" I warn him.

"All right, all right. My bad!" He raises his hand and backs away when I glare at him. "We can always make more."

"I can't, I have to leave for my doctor's appointment in twenty minutes." I sigh. I hate going to the doctor. "And we have to see the other doctor tomorrow."

"You mean the check-up? Is it tomorrow?" He asks, sitting at the table and biting on some toast.

"Yep, tomorrow morning."

You see, as our lives as a couple progresses, we have to go through several procedures. First it was the lady doctor, then the church. Now every month we have to see a doctor to do a check-up. Visualize's people say that it's just procedure, just to check, and if we're sick, it's better to treat it sooner than later.

But Freddie told me the real meaning of this whole ordeal. Before we even get married, we get tested to see if we have any kind of disease. If we pass the tests, we're allowed to mate with the more appropriate pair. If not…well, I don't really know what happens to those people. Maybe they kill them and cook them in some sort of weird ritual or something, I don't know, and besides, who wants to eat diseased corpses?

Anyway, after the first few months of marriage, the couple is tested again and if something changes, it can only mean one thing: adultery. And that is a mortal sin around here. So every month that follows, we have these_check-ups _and this one is our first one.

"I hate needles." I say.

"Don't worry baby, I'll hold your hand." Freddie says reassuringly.

"If you're allowed." I remind him.

"Okay, if I'm allowed." He agrees. "You want a ride to the doctor? I have to pick up a few stuff for work."

"How is that going, by the way? I mean, is it good? Everything good?" I ask with a little hesitation.

"It's great, Sam." He laughs. "So, you want a ride?"

"That would be nice."

"So, I've been thinking that maybe we should go out tonight." He says. "We haven't been on a date since our first one, and I'd really like to take you somewhere special tonight."

"Why?" I ask, mouth full of bacon.

"Well, because you are beautiful and I love you." He reaches across the table to grab my hand and kiss it sweetly.

I smile and bat my eyelashes flirtatiously.

"And how should I dress for this evening?"

"Well…I was thinking of something black…and tight." He smirks.

"And underneath?" I whisper, taking his hand to my lips and kissing his knuckles, all the while looking directly into his eyes.

"I'm content with nothing." His voice is so husky it makes me tremble a little.

Freddie pulls my chair close until his lips are on my ear.

"You won't be wearing anything at all by the end of the night anyway."

"Nothing at all?" I ask with false innocence.

"Not a thing, Samantha."

Normally I would punch people who called me by that name, but then Freddie took my earlobe between his lips, so I forgot that I was supposed to be mad about something. He kisses that spot below my ear, then his lips barely touch the skin of my neck, still sending damn shivers down my spine. His lips are always so wet and warm…so _deliciously inviting. _Just when I'm starting to get into it, planning on moving from my seat to his lap, Freddie pulls away and goes back to his breakfast like nothing happened.

"Wha…"

"You better finish your breakfast if you want to get there on time." Freddie smiles over his coffee cup.

"There…?" I'm still a little dumbfounded. The warmth of his mouth has made me hot all over, and my head can't function properly.

"The doctor?" He reminds me with a smirk. "You seem a bit…distracted. It wasn't me, was it?"

His false innocence unnerves me, and I throw a napkin at his face.

"Keep playing that card and the only action you'll get tonight is from the couch!" I bark.

"Okay, all right. No need to be angry." He laughs.

"Let's just go, Freddie."

I dump my plate in the sink and grab my purse, walking out of the house without waiting for him. Once I'm outside, I smile to myself like a silly girl.

_Oh, this boy…this stupid boy._

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><p>The pamphlets in the waiting room suck ass. They're all Visualize bullshit about a bright future and a peaceful present and shit, when the truth is much uglier than that. I sigh, running my finger over the picture of a little girl smiling on the cover. She has no idea how evil the world is, she has no idea how things really unfold. I wonder if it will be possible to hide the truth from my own children, to protect them from the world I had to grow up in. I'd do whatever is necessary, no matter the consequences.<p>

"_184. 184"_

Ugh, that's me. God, I hate doctors, especially this one. Not that I hate her personally. She's nice, I guess, but I don't particularly enjoy anyone messing around my lady parts – well, except for Freddie, but he's my husband.

I enter her office while walking on eggshells, just like I did the first day. Dr. Walsh is sitting behind her desk, scribbling down in a notebook. I knock on the door quietly and she raises her eyes to look at me. I can't ever get over how young she looks, even though I'm sure she's older than thirty-years-old. Just by the way she behaves and talks, I can tell she's no little girl. She smiles and tells me to sit down, but doesn't stop with her notes. I don't mind, actually. I kind of need some time to mentally prepare myself for this anyway. I've never been good with intimacy and those exams and inspections I had to go through before I was shipped off to marry Freddie were terrifying. Especially because the woman messing around my lady parts was a bitch.

"So, Samantha, how are we doing today?" Finally, Dr. Walsh raises her eyes from the notebook to look at me. _Ugh! Don't call me that! I hate when people call me that!_

"Fine, I suppose."

"Have you've been constantly sexually active?"

Oh God! I hate to talk about my intimacy with strangers.

"I uh…yeah." I say with a blush.

Oh, I've been _sexually active, _all right. In fact, I plan to be extra active tonight.

"I understand your schedule for the monthly exam is tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah. My husband and I are scheduled for tomorrow."

"Great. Well, I'm going to do a little inspection with you today. Hope you don't mind, it's not too much, just customary."

"Sure…do I need to change now?"

"Yes, please."

I completely hate the gown I have to wear in the hospital. I always get self-conscious about my naked butt on show, but there's not much I can do about that. When I walk out of the room, Dr. Walsh is preparing the table for me. She pats the thin paper that is covering the table, telling me to sit down. My feet feel weird on the cold floor. Everything about Visualize feels weirdly cold.

"Just how active have you've been lately?" She asks, completely professional.

"A lot." I whisper with a blush that burns my cheeks bright red. "I'm a little sore, actually…"

I only said that because maybe she'll have some medicine for my lady parts. Although it doesn't hurt that bad, some medicine would be nice, and I wouldn't mind doing it all over again. Today, every day, every hour of every day. And besides, I kind of need to be in my best shape for tonight.

"Do you constantly have rough sex or…"

I don't like what she's implying, but I can't really blame her. I suppose she gets a lot of that here every day. I shudder at the thought, thanking God for the millionth time for Freddie.

"Well, it depends on the mood." I try to explain.

"His mood or your mood?" She asks, lowering her head to look at my…lady things.

"Our mood. Doctor…?" I call to her.

"Yes?" She raises her head from my…parts to look at me.

"He doesn't rape me. When we get rough it's because we want to. And I like it. Freddie would never hurt me."

She doesn't seem convinced and I don't know if I'd be either. Seeing patients every day that suffer this kind of abuse must be awful. I wonder how she sleeps at night.

"I mean it. I love my husband and he loves me. He's…one of the few good guys left. It hurts because we've been going at it two or three times a day…" I confess with a blush. "You can check if you want, I'll even do a rape kit, but I won't let you think Freddie is something he's not."

"Okay, Samantha. So, how about you spread your legs wider for me, then?" She says, putting on her gloves.

Ugh! I do as I'm told, sighing in frustration when her cold gloved hand touches me. This is so not how I would like to be spending my day. She investigates for a while, and I try not to squirm or thank God aloud when she's done.

"All right." She says with a sigh. "You don't have any signs of sexual abuse. I was just making sure. You never know. And about your pain, an Advil may do the trick."

I nod and she moves from between my spread legs, which I close immediately after, and she throws the gloves in the trash can. The cold breeze was making me shiver.

"Tomorrow you're going to take a fertility test, and you're to bring it to me next week. But I think you won't have any problems since you're so young and look so healthy." She scribbles down in her notebook again.

"Oh…uh, I wanted to ask you something, by the way."

"Shoot."

"I wanted you to…help me…with something." I stutter.

"Sure, what do you need?"

"Okay, uh…so I don't know much about fertility, except well, how to make babies, but…I was wondering if…you could…you know my friend told me that…"

"Samantha, you don't need to be nervous. I'm your doctor. Everything you say here will stay here, you don't need to worry."

"Okay…" I sigh. "I wanted you to help me know when my body is ready to have babies. I want to know what days it's more likely for me to get pregnant."

"See? Was it really that hard?" She smiles.

"A little." I smile back.

"Well, Sam…can I call you Sam?" I nod thankfully. "There is the rhythm method, which is the natural birth control method that gives you a sense of your own fertility periods. It doesn't prevent you from getting pregnant, if that's what you're asking. It's not that effective, but it does give you more awareness."

"And how do I do that?"

"All you have to do is calculate the exact-"

"Ugh! I'm terrible with math! I'll have to ask Freddie to do it for me." I groan, not aware I spoke out loud.

Dr. Walsh chuckles, and I try to hide my blush.

"I'm going to give you a calendar, it will help you a little more, but if you feel like you can ask your husband to do the math for you, great." She laughs.

I nod and watch intently while she explains to me exactly what I have to do. Based on my period, we do the math in her office, which gives me the result that I'm fertile today and the days that follow. She explains to me how my body is ready to conceive and how a sperm can survive three days inside of my body, but my egg can only be fertilized twenty four hours after released from my ovaries. It's a tricky method, and I'm afraid I'm going to mess it up real good with the math, but she gives me some papers so I can write down some notes to remember later.

I leave her office in awe. It's weird and exciting to know that right now my body is ready to bear children, that tonight I can be making my first baby. Well, I would, if only Freddie did his part, which he's very careful not to do. I sigh and walk to work, shaking the thoughts out of my head.

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><p>I'm home before Freddie, as usual, and I use the extra time to take a good bubble bath. When I was a girl, we didn't have bathtubs in my house, and I always envied the kids from the soap commercials with their bubbles and rubber ducks. Perhaps now that I have a bathtub I should buy a rubber duck and call him Austin. The kids would like that. I wonder if there are any rubber ducks left in the world or if they vanished like their owners.<p>

Throwing my head back, I close my eyes, thinking of my long gone childhood, me and Mel running around butt naked in the backyard and grandma spraying us with a hose, yelling because we didn't want to take a shower. Then I remember my mother and her careless ways, how she would disappear for days and leave us starving our asses off. How she wouldn't pay the water bills and we would be left in dirty clothes for days and how grandma would always show up to save us.

God, I miss Mel. I haven't heard or talked to her in such a long time, and I force myself not to think about her – it still hurts too much. Maybe if I get pregnant soon I can write her a letter telling her how much I miss her and ask her if she's okay. I don't know if she'll be able to write me back, but I can tell her about Freddie and how good he is to me. Or maybe I shouldn't, I don't want to seem like I'm bragging or anything.

But Mel would be happy for me, she would want me to be taken care of, just as much as I want that for her. I bite my lower lip, trying not to cry. I should keep the good memories about our childhood, instead of the things I only wonder in my head.

I wonder how Freddie's childhood was before the war. I wonder if he had a backyard to run naked through or a grandmother to spray him with a hose and call him a skinny little brat. I know he didn't have any sibling to play with like I did and wonder if he ever felt alone.

I wonder what his parents were like. All I know about them is that his father was a doctor and his mother a nurse. His father died in the war and after they took him away from his mom, he never saw her again. And I don't know much about her, he never talks about her. All I know is that she taught him not to put his elbows on the table and how to neatly fold his clothes. I wonder how he was as a child, what he looked like. I bet he was a beautiful child. He had to be with how he's so handsome now.

"Are you trying to tempt me not to go to dinner?" I hear his voice, soft and husky, low against my forehead. And he kisses me before I can open my eyes, his lips on mine.

"Hey you." I say, but don't open my eyes.

"Hey you."

He kisses me again, letting his hand slip into the water to cup my right breast. I sigh into his mouth, relishing the touch of his hand and how it affects me. Grabbing him by the hair, I'm tempted to pull him into the tub with me, but he slides his hand in between my legs and I lose all control of my muscles. I put one hand over his, afraid he's going to pull away, and God, I need him so much right now. He presses his finger against my clit and I cry out.

"Freddie…" I moan against his lips, pulling him closer for more.

He breaks the kiss, but I have no time to protest before his fingers slide into me. Jesus, Mary, Joseph…Holy Spirit, Judas or whatever, I had no idea how much I missed this until now. It's been only a few hours, but God…I missed it. I'm always thinking about it, but I'm always surprised with how much I like it, how he makes me feel – like I'm flying outside my body.

"Good God, Freddie!"

"You like this?" He asks, biting down on my earlobe. "Huh, love? Do you like it?"

"Yes…uh-huh…oh yes…"

I raise my hips, spreading my legs further apart for him to go even deeper, and when he adds a third finger, I go ballistic. I can feel my body tensing with my release, I'm so damn close.

"Good…this is just a sample of what I'm going to do to you today. I hope you're ready for it…I hope you can take it."

With that he withdraws his fingers and kisses me one last time. I'm about to yell at him, but maybe I should save myself for later tonight.

"I can take anything you've got, Benson, don't even doubt it for a second."

"All right, then, I believe you." He smirks. "We have reservations in one hour. Be ready."

Freddie had asked me to wear something black and tight, but the thing is I don't have anything like that. I don't know if we're even allowed to wear something so provocative. I pick the least horrendous piece of clothing I have, a navy blue silk dress with a yellow sash around the waist. No cleavage is shown, but it's compensated by leaving a good, but not offensive amount of skin of my back exposed.

I place it carefully on the bed while I dress up in my undergarments, but soon change my mind. I won't be wearing anything by the end of the night anyway, there is no point putting on underwear, but I get concerned with the implications of this action. What if I trip and somebody sees me and my bare lady parts? Not a good idea. I better find something easy to remove instead.

I choose a matching pair of panties – I hate that word – and bra. The thing about the bottom that makes it so easy to remove are the two clasps on the side. When it comes to pleasing men, Visualize sure doesn't get concerned with decency or whatever.

Freddie decided to change in the guest bedroom. He left saying that he'd rather be surprised, so I'll surprise him all right. I try to remember some of the things Carly told me the night of my first date. She knew so much about make up – the little we're allowed to use – and hair, but I wasn't paying complete attention to it all. I apply just a little bit of a light shade, mascara and lip gloss. I leave my hair hanging down my shoulders just as Freddie likes and choose a pair of salmon colored heels.

Freddie is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, just like on our first date. He looks at me with lust clouding his eyes and whistles after taking a long moment to stare at me. He doesn't look so bad either. I have to admit that although I haven't seen a lot of men in my lifetime, Freddie is definitely the most attractive of them all. And I don't think that just because I love him. He really is, I knew it from the first time I laid eyes on him – so handsome.

The white shirt he's wearing underneath his black jacket hugs the muscles of his pecks very well. His face is smooth and hairless and his eyes…God, I love his eyes like I've never loved anything else before. The way they bore into my soul like he can see through me makes me shiver with want and love. His hand reaches out for my waist when I'm close enough and I fall naturally into his arms – strong arms that always make me feel safe.

"You look amazing, wife." He whispers.

"Thank you, husband. You do, too. Now, if you must know, I'm hungry."

He laughs when my stomach growls. I haven't had any food in a while and I kind of need it at the moment. Freddie nods and kisses me gently. The kiss grows gradually deeper once I lace my arms around his neck. I feel my back hitting the hard wall, and for a moment I suffer from a whole different type of hunger. His lips are soft and hot, heating up all the way down to my neck, and my hands lose themselves in his hair. My cravings for food being momentarily pushed to the side, I groan deeply when he squeezes the flesh of my backside, tracing his fingers over the soft and silky material of my dress.

"God," he groans. "If we don't leave now, I'll never be able to leave, Sam."

"Then don't." I suggest, nipping on his earlobe. "I'll just fix us something to eat later."

"But what a waste it would be not to take you out when you're dressed like this." He pulls away, looking at me from head to toe with those eyes that turn me into a pile of goo.

"No, we're going out." He makes the decision. "You deserve a night out, babe."

I groan through my loud protests, but he only chuckles and pulls me by the hand, leading me out the door.

"If we're going out at least let me fix your hair."

I trace my hands through his hair, fixing the mess I've made. Freddie smiles like a little boy being smothered by his mother and my heart aches. I wonder if his mother used to comb his ridiculously soft hair, but I don't ask – I don't want to ruin the night. One day though, maybe I'll sit down with him and ask the questions that are still unanswered in my mind, and I'll tell him things too, and we'll cry together – cry with each other, cry for each other.

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><p>We go to the same restaurant we went to during our first date. Freddie says that the number of fancy places to have a nice, decent date are rather limited. He talks about the building he's helping build and how it's a new Visualize headquarters or something. It'll be the tallest one so far and President Wells is going to have a new office there. I try not to grimace at his name because even though he doesn't give me the same kind of disgusting feeling Frank Ellis does, he's still a Visualize man – and a politician. Freddie gets really excited when he tells me about the restaurant they'll build there. He says that the walls will be all glass, and if you sit closer it will be like eating in the sky. That makes me eager too, especially when he says he'll take me there someday.<p>

Unlike our first date, I'm not nervous about sitting on the edge of a cliff – I'm with Freddie, I know I won't fall. He smiles when I decide I want to stand over the edge and look downwards before our dinner arrives. Freddie holds me and I close my eyes, letting the wind muss up my hair, but hold on to the iron fence just in case.

"What would you do if I fell?" I ask him in a whisper.

"I would jump after you." He says with no doubt, no hesitation. "Because if you're not safe on solid ground, I don't want to be either."

I turn around and kiss him like I've never done before.

Before the night is over, he takes me to a small, almost empty coffee shop and we have good coffee and talk about silly things. It's by far the best date I've ever had, and I thought it would be difficult to top the previous one. He's sweet and charming the whole night, teasing me when I burn my tongue from the coffee, but kissing the pain away just a moment after. We talk about music on the ride back home, and I realize I don't know even a quarter of the bands Freddie does. He teaches me the difference between classic rock and heavy metal when I say I don't know how they differ from each other, and I watch him closely when he tells me a list of his favorite songs.

Once we close the front door, I expect him to attack me, press me against the wall and tear off my dress, but he surprises me when he takes me by the hand and leads me to the back porch.

"Sit down, I'll be right back."

He walks into his workshop and comes back with his phonograph and a record in hand. He sets everything up while I watch curiously.

"This song is one of my favorites." He tells me. "When I was seven, I woke up in the middle of the night to pee, but on the way to my bathroom I heard a soft melody coming from the living room."

Freddie takes me by the hand and makes me stand up, one hand on my waist, the other holding my own. I get the message and start to sway slowly to the rhythm he sets.

"I decided to investigate more closely and I saw my parents, slow dancing under the low light of the living room. Since then, in my head, love was defined by that moment, those people, that song. I thought that if one day I came to love someone, I would dance that song with her – I would like to have a moment like that with her."

I hold back the tears swimming im my eyes and rest my head against his chest. He just told me something about his parents, something so beautiful it makes me wish I was there to see it too.

"What's the name of the song?" I ask in a whisper.

"All I Want Is You, by U2."

He kisses the top of my head and rests his cheek against my hair. The song is so beautiful, it's lyric, it's melody – it's like being embraced by something sweet and invisible. The guitars echo in my head as the singer stops singing, giving space to the melody. I understand now why he defined love by this moment, this song.

"For a long time I thought I lost it, thought I would never see that again, but then you came along and now I see it every time I look at you." He speaks so low, but I hear him, I understand him.

"My aunt fixing my uncle's tie." I say.

"What?"

"That's my first definition of love. That was the first time I saw what loving someone was like, romantically I mean." I raise my head to look deep into his eyes, and for a long time we keep staring into each other's eyes, just looking, not speaking, but saying so much.

"Let's go upstairs." I whisper when the music is over.

"You don't need to tell me twice." Freddie scoops me up in his arms and I laugh.

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><p>He places me gently on the bed, removes my shoes and kisses all the way up to my knees. I sigh and throw my head back a little, starting to feel my body temperature rising at the mere sight of him. Freddie removes his jacket, then his shirt follows, lying abandoned on the floor near the bed. I sit up to touch him, every piece of him, every scar and every rare patch of smooth skin – nothing is neglected.<p>

With firm hands, he turns me around and pushes my hair out of the way so he can kiss my neck. His movements are gentle, he puts more focus on them and I know this is no ordinary night. My dress is slowly unzipped and his hands come to brush away the cold that hits my bare back. With a kiss on the nape of my neck, he pulls the dress down my arms and I get up from the bed to let it slide from my body. Standing in front of him I caress his face softly, letting my fingers brush against his nose, lips, eyelids, forehead and ears before sliding them into his hair.

Sometimes I want to ask him what the hell he puts in his hair to make it so soft, but I feel like a girl as I think it and don't ask. Whatever it may be, it doesn't matter now anyway.

"I thought for sure you'd be naked underneath this dress. You have no idea of how many times I wanted to slip my hand up your thigh to find out."

"Disappointed?"

"Not at all." He whispers. "Never."

Finally, his hands reach out for me, sliding across my back, over my thighs, up to the sides of my breasts. Even if I doubted his love for me in words, I'd still feel it in his touch, in the taste of his lips, in the deepness of his gaze. My ears pick up the snapping sound of my bra being undone, and I feel the soft fabric sliding down my shoulders. Freddie takes his time, bringing me close to touch his lips against my breasts. I feel loved, adored, completely beautiful in his hands, and I melt like butter under the heat of his palm.

His lips close around my nipple and his hand kneads the other. Both my nipples are hard and I let out a low growl, wanting nothing but to feel him in me. Every time we make love it's new and exciting as if it was our first time. Not that terrible night when I screwed up, but that night in front of the fireplace, when I wasn't so scared of becoming one with him anymore.

"This is an interesting pair." He says, examining the clasps of my underwear. "I like it."

"I'm glad you like it." I snort.

My underwear hits the floor with a soft sound and Freddie stands before me so I can help him undress as well. I trace the tips of my fingers over his pecks, down to his stomach and over the bulge in his pants. My husband whispers my name as I help him out of his confines. Freddie breaths out in relief and I wrap my thumbs around the waistband of his boxers, sliding them down his hips. He's so beautiful, so damn handsome that it's overwhelming sometimes.

Once when I was little, I stole one of my aunt's romance novels. It was about a woman who fell in love with a man, but she was to marry another. I didn't care about the story. I just wanted to know why my aunt read it so much. In the book, it describes a man so handsome that seemed impossible to be real. I thought no such thing existed, that nobody could be that beautiful. But then I laid eyes on Freddie.

His fingers lose themselves in my hair and I close my eyes and tilt my head slightly to the side. I'm waiting for his lips to find me again, but they don't come, so I open my eyes.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers. "I don't understand how someone can be so beautiful."

"I don't either." I say, caressing his face lovingly.

They find me. Those beautiful lips of his, nipping gently, pressing against mine and his tongue wandering inside my mouth. I feel so hot, so ready, I just can't wait any longer.

"Freddie…" I beg.

The bastard chuckles lightly, but caries me to the bed, being gentle while putting me down. He remains at the foot of the bed, looking me up and down. I feel so alive under his gaze and I don't feel embarrassed anymore. When I was younger I used to cover my body with too many layers of clothing so no one would look at me. Right now, right here, naked in his arms I feel as if I've never been more comfortable in my entire life.

After a long time, he starts to touch me. He caresses my feet, kissing each of them and I giggle.

"Your feet…they are as small as your hands." He says. "I love them."

He continues his journey, kissing up my legs, my inner thighs as I squirm helplessly underneath his touch. I beg and squirm and raise my hips in desperation, but he only reaches for me when he decides it's time and by then I'm already delirious with want. His hands work on taking my underwear off, his mouth and fingers find me shortly after and I groan in relief. He has me in the palm of his hand right now, but that doesn't bother me, it only excites me more.

"Oh, Freddie…"

My body arches of its own accord and I throw my head back with a cry. I feel the tightness in the pit of my stomach growing, and I know what's about to happen. My nails dig into his scalp and the groan he lets out is the last piece of the puzzle. I'm done. Freddie rides my storm of aftershocks, one by one, making them even more intense. Panting, I watch him crawl over to me and kiss me on the lips. The bittersweet taste of my orgasm still lingers on his lips, and I seriously don't know how he can stand it. Maybe he feels the same way about it as I feel for his release. It's the taste of his desire for me, and I love it.

"I think you woke up Brad and Carly." He teases.

I only laugh, brushing his wet with sweat bangs to the side. He looks so much like a boy right now, when most of the time he looks like a man twice his age. Not in looks, he still looks as young as his age, but his eyes are older, and there is something about him that makes him look older as well. I always look at him and see a man, but now, right now, I get a glimpse of what he might have looked like as a child, and I can't help the words crawling out of my throat.

"The doctor said I was fertile today." I say sheepishly. "She said my body is most likely to conceive today."

For a long moment he looks at me with something in his eyes. Something different from everything I've seen before and I wonder if I said the wrong thing. I don't want him to think that I'm just doing this because I have to – not again. I don't want him to lose himself again and for a moment I fear that he will. But his outburst never comes. Instead he caresses my face and lowers his head for a deep, passionate kiss.

"I just hope they have your eyes." He whispers, before positioning himself between my legs.

I want to cry out in pure joy when he enters me. I feel him burning me as he goes in, but in a very good way. Every fiber of my being is on fire, and the pleasure is inexplicable, he's not even moving yet and I already feel ready to explode. He moves his hips in a slow circle, grinding them against mine and I moan, not as loud as I could, but loud enough. Freddie picks up his pace and I move with him, raising my hips so he can get in deeper.

He pulls out, changes the angle of his hips, and goes back all the way in, not stopping until he's buried inside of me to the hilt. I scream at the feeling, wanting to feel it again and again and again.

"Oh God!" I pant. "Do that again!"

He growls low in my ear, and moves out and in again, hitting me right on the spot. I bend my knees to the side of his body, using my feet to open my legs wider. I feel so full, and it feels like he grows in me with every thrust – and he fills me up perfectly. I moan and groan and scream his name, and the bed rocks, but I don't hear it, all I hear is his voice, whispering his love for me in my ear. It's like magic, and soon I'm flying outside my body. I come with a shout and squeeze him tightly. My inner walls contracting around him and he cries out my name a half dozen times, but he doesn't stop moving.

"Sam…Sam…I love you so much." I can hear him whispering when I come down from my high.

I hold tight to him, legs and arms wrapped around him, my whole being wrapped around him. His thrusts grow frantic, he moves his hips with no control, rough and fast, but he doesn't hurt me. I can feel it again, something burning up inside of me like fire, and I find myself moaning in his ear again.

"Fuck!" He curses, and pulls back to look at me.

Freddie is covered in sweat, and so am I, but his glistening skin under the moonlight makes him look even more attractive. He keeps pushing inside of me, holding my hips tightly and I can hear the slick sound of our flesh slapping against each other. I know that in the morning it will hurt, but right now nothing feels better. His body tenses over mine and his hips break loose in erratic movements. I keep watching as he closes his eyes above me, squeezing them shut and suddenly I feel it for the first time ever. I feel his hot seed being spilled inside of me for the first time ever. Not in my mouth, not in my hands, but inside of me and the joy of the moment takes me to the edge again.

Now I really know what liquid fire feel like. And although I swallowed it before, it burns hotter inside of me. I scream so loud I wouldn't be surprised if Carly and Brad shout for us to shut up. I come all over again and this time it's so hard I think I blacked out for a while. It's the most intense orgasm I've ever had and that is saying something.

When I finally get my consciousness back, I feel Freddie trembling above me, his body spent with all his weight over mine. But I don't care, it doesn't bother me. I realize that I'm trembling too, that I've never felt this way before in my life and I want to feel this way again every day from now on. Freddie's still quiet and I get concerned, but I don't say anything. I stroke his hair and wait for him to come back to me – when he's ready.

"That was a long time coming." He whispers, his voice weak, tired. "I don't think I've ever come this hard before in my life."

I chuckle and deliver a sloppy kiss to the side of his head.

"Me neither."

He moves his head from where it had been resting in the crook of my neck and I can see that he's smiling. He kisses me on the lips and a drop of his sweat falls down onto my cheek.

"Sorry." He wipes it away. "Am I heavy on you?"

"Yes, but I love it."

Freddie laughs and tries to pull away, but I don't let him. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him there.

"Don't."

"Sam, I'm heavy…"

"I don't care."

But Freddie is Freddie, so he stays there but holds most of his weight on his arms. He pulls out, and I don't protests this time, because although I love to have him there, and sometimes I don't ever want him leave, I already know I'm going to be sore in the morning.

"I'm spent." He says with a yawn after ten minutes of letting me hold him.

"Me too." I stroke his hair – his head is lying on my chest. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

I decide to let him roll to the side and pull me with him. I lay my head on his chest and let him hold me tight. Tonight changed everything and I could become pregnant very soon. I smile against his chest and raise my head to look at my husband. Freddie is already asleep, so I get the opportunity to stare at him. And God he looks gorgeous, even with his hair messy and covered in sweat, asleep like a rock. But he smiles so bright I could swear it lights up the whole room. He'll be a great father, I just know it.

"I hope they get your smile." I yawn, placing one of my hands over my stomach, sleep finally catching up with me.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I know it's been more than a while, but I had to attend at the funeral of my comuter. But now that have a new one, here's the chapter. You'll be glad to know I already figured out where this fic is going and I'll be considering a sequel perhaps... **perhaps. **Don't trust me in this, I wouldn't. So, I also named the chapter already, but you have to wait and see. All I can say is there is some Arcade Fire, some The Killers, a lot of Coldplay. Anyway. But keep in mind I can change it if necessary._

_Anyway, I wanted everyone to know that my amazing editor Ms.** Clarksonfan** has posted her new seddie fic, it's AU, and DAMN baby it's awesome! I'm telling you people, go check it out because... dude... did I mention it is amazing? It's the bomb diggity! (Lol, I've watching too much New Girl! Blame The Schmidt ). Anyway, go check it out, it's called "**Every Teardrop is a Waterfall**". I love me some Coldplay._

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><p><em>Imagine Dragons – It's Time (amazing song from the Perks Of Being A Wallflower trailer. If the movie is as good as the book, I'll die happy!)<em>


	32. Death And All His Friends

**Genre**_**:**__ Romance/Drama/AU_

**Rating:** _M_

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing! Just my imagination and if iCarly was mine, I was going to name it iSam, and everything that happened would be different and I wouldn't troll anyone because I don't appreciate people playing with my fangirl feelings!_

**Pairings:** _Sam/Freddie – Seddie! Brad and Carly – Barly. Maybe Wendy and Gibby, but I don't know who you call that… Wibby?_

**Summary:** _They live in an alternative universe, above ashes of war. The horror seems to stop when a religious organization takes over the entire nation, organizing the chaos. They live under new rules now; everything should be organized and properly prepared. Even the marriages should be carefully planned. Alternative universe, may be a bit OOC, I don't know yet. Inspired in this amazing THG fic called __**Five Loaves of Bread: Dark Toast.**_

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><p>Last night I made the most important decision of my life. And after that I couldn't fall asleep. I spent the whole night considering the implications of my decision. Having a child is a definitive thing, it's not something I can take back if it doesn't work and I know that, but what is done is done. That knowledge, however, didn't allow me to rest at all that night, so I lied still in bed, holding my wife and letting my mind go to a dozen different places.<p>

I thought about my mother and father and how there was nothing they could have done to save me from the destiny that had been set for me. I thought about everything I went through as a child and teenager and where that path led me. Now I'm not going to tell some heroic lie and say that everything I went through doesn't matter because of where I am right now. No, everything I went through, every single thing, mattered. But in the end I found my way and I found where I belong as well. And maybe that's just it, for everyone. Maybe we all have to go through hard experiences to become the person we are meant to be. That's life – it's not something I can stop.

Years ago when I was ripped out of my mother's arms and taken away, I didn't know that after many years I would be able to find happiness again. Life is in constant motion, we're always moving forward, and only the past stays behind us. Maybe it is time to finally let go of the things I've been through and move a step forward. In the time I grew up many things happened, many things changed, and maybe the same will happen again to my children. Maybe they'll be able to live in a word different from the one I did. I can only pray for it and hope it will happen.

"Good morning." Sam whispers against my shoulder.

I wasn't ready for her to wake up yet. A whole night was not enough time, and I needed more time alone before I had to face her.

"Good morning."

"Mmmm…I've never slept so well in my life." She yawns.

"I'm glad you had a good night." Because mine was a troubled one.

"It was amazing…although…"

"Although?"

"I'm a little bit sore." She smiles.

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry." I caress her face.

"It doesn't matter. I'm so happy."

She lifts her head to look at me and I can see her eyes shimmering. I don't have the heart to tell her that in a few years, she might be waking up to some guys from Visualize knocking on our door, ready to take one of our children away.

"Me too." I kiss her forehead and hate myself for lying to her like that.

Sam smiles again, so bright, then reaches out to kiss me. I hold her face in my hands and let her take the lead. I can feel her firm breasts against my chest and I think about last night. I could pass it off and say it was an "in the heat of the moment" kind of thing, but I know it wasn't. I had been thinking about that the whole night as well as a few nights before that. I've made my decision, and now there is no turning back.

"And I'm hungry." She stretches and rolls to the side. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really." I say and she looks at me suspiciously. "Actually, I'm still pretty tired. I think I'm going to stay in bed for a few more minutes."

"I did a number on you, didn't I?" She flirts in a mocking tone.

"That is true." I agree.

"I rocked your world, Benson." Sam tickles me under the chin.

"If you'll recall, I rocked your world as well, ma'am. So, you're welcome."

"Whatever. I'm going to go and take a shower. Be downstairs for breakfast in twenty, otherwise there will be nothing left for you!"

Sam gets up from the bed, wrapping a sheet around her, the same one that's caught on my foot. I hold on to the sheet until it's completely off her body and pull the covers away from her.

"Yeah, I don't think this is necessary." I say.

"You just want to stare at my ass."

"That is very true." I smile.

"Pervert!" She sticks her tongue out at me and walks into the bathroom, leaving the door open.

I sit back as the smile fades from my face and think. My whole life I fought; I fought against the army when they took me away from my mother, I fought against the bullies in the training yard, I fought against soldiers, some not much older than me, and I fought against myself. I'm always fighting something, or someone, maybe it's time for me to stop and just accept the loss. The only question is, will I be able to love these children for the time I'll be given? Because the way I see it, they're not mine. They'll be a loan from Visualize, given to me to take care of and love until the day they come to collect them. No, these kids are not mine, they never will be.

And I must accept things I cannot change.

"Come on, Freddie, we're going to be late!" Sam yells from downstairs.

It's our first exam session as a couple. Visualize always wants to make sure everything is going according to their rules. I don't even want to know what happens with people who fail the test. Bu in my case, I know nothing will show up, so I'm good. Well, as good as I can be anyway. I hate doctors, hospitals, tests, and medicine, but it's standard procedure. More and more, I find myself irritated with everything I'm forced through, and I know it's not going to stop. The knowledge that I'll stay the rest of my life living this way just irks me.

Hoping and wishing is bullshit, I know nothing will change and that we're all doomed. If it wasn't for Sam, I seriously would not want to live in this world anymore. When I was twelve, after my very first time holding a gun I prayed the whole night for God, Jesus, or Superman to come and save me, and guess what? Nothing happened. Things only got worse, but I learned to accept the fate that was given to me, and I grew used to living that way. It didn't mean I liked it, only that I knew there was no other life for me. So why is it so hard to just do the same thing now? I'll still have a few years before I have to deliver my children to Visualize on a silver platter, I might as well make the most of it.

"I thought for sure you got lost up there." Sam says from the bottom of the stairs when I come down.

"Sorry. I was just…procrastinating. I hate doctors."

"Me too, but let's just get going and get this over with." She gives me her hand, and call me cliché, but suddenly things weren't so bad anymore.

"I've been thinking." Sam says.

"Uh-oh, that's not good. Ouch!" I rub my ribs which Sam just elbowed.

"We should host a dinner." She says, getting into the car.

"And why is that?"

"Because, well, we never did it. We went to Carly's and Brad's for dinner, then Wendy's and Gibby's, but we never hosted our own dinner. And we should invite our other neighbors as well."

"And why should we do that?" I start the ignition.

"Come on, Freddie. I don't know, I'm trying to be a polite neighbor here, which is already hard enough for me, so give me a break and help me." She punches me on the shoulder.

"Look, this week will be super busy for me, okay. I've been working on that new project I told you about and, well, it's the biggest one so far. I don't think I'll have time to host a dinner, besides it will only be more work for you anyway, so why would you want that?"

"Carly and Wendy did it, so I thought…" Sam lowers her head and I sigh, "If they can do it, then I sure as hell can."

"I wasn't saying you can't do it, Sam. I was just saying you don't have to. Come on, Carly and Wendy are Carly and Wendy, let them host dinners and wear aprons." I chuckle.

"So, basically, you're saying that they can be good housewives, but I can't?" She glares at me.

"No, I was just saying it's not your thing." I say, foolishly trying to make amends.

"Wow, nice Freddie. If I am such a lousy housewife, you should've just said so."

"Sam-"

"So, what's next? Am I a bad wife, too? Are you going to tell me now that I can't be a good mother as well?"

Her voice is sharp like a knife, but masked with hurt. I didn't mean for her to think that, and I didn't say any of that, but sometimes she only hears what she wants to hear. That's one of the reasons why I never told her the reason why I don't want to be popping out kids, so Visualize can take them away. I believe that she knows that already, but she doesn't want to acknowledge it, because sometimes, Sam only sees what she wants to see.

"Look, I never said any of that and you know it." I'm aware that my voice grows a little impatient. "I was just saying that you don't have to do that. Wendy and Carly have this idea that people expect things from them, so…"

"You're right, you know. Nobody ever expected anything from me. I'm aware of that fact. My mother kept repeating that to me many times, so I get it, Freddie, you don't have to tell me twice."

I groan in pure frustration and stop the car on the side of the rode. Sam looks at me as if I'm insane, and opens her mouth to speak, but I'm faster.

"Sam, I don't understand why you're trying to give me a hard time today, especially since we had such a great night last night, but I'm not going to feed your accusations. I never meant that no one expected anything from you, and I never said that you're not as good as any of them, but if that's what you want to believe, fine Sam, go ahead. But I'm not going to sit here and let you make me the bad guy when you know that the only thing that I meant was that you're not a prissy ass housewife like they are, and not that there is nothing wrong with that, but you're just not like them, you're special. And we both know you're not exactly a social person. Now, I'm not saying you're unpleasant to be around, but you don't really have a moderate amount of patience in you.

"I'm working a lot lately, and I'm tired. I don't want to come home and have to play nice neighbor, not even to my best friend. I just thought it was out of character for you and I could already picture how uncomfortable you would be throughout the whole night, and I'm sorry for being such a lousy husband and not wanting that for you."

Finishing my speech, I start the car and don't even look her way. I'm not really up for bullshit today. I'm tense, stressed and just plain annoyed. These _routine exams _are driving me mad, there is so much on my mind lately, and in addition to that, I might be a father soon enough, so really, let's just say I'm not in the mood today.

"Margery, the stuck up bitch next door practically implied that I'm a bad wife." She says.

"What now?" I turn to look at her.

"I heard her when I was taking out the trash before you came downstairs. She was telling one of the women who lives next door to her that she pities you."

"Pities me?"

"Yeah, for having the misfortune to be stuck with such a lousy woman for a spouse."

"What made her say that?"

"I uh…well…I didn't actually clean the backyard, you know. It has leaves all over it and it looks like a mess. The grass is not actually cut, too. And I forgot to put the garbage on the curb for the garbage truck for about a week, so you can tell it smells."

"Sam…" I rub my temples. "Baby, those are my obligations, not yours."

"But you work too much, and I can do it…"

"Did she say that?" I ask, totally annoyed.

"Maybe…she implied that since you're _such a hard working young man, _I should come through and help."

"You know what? I'll tell that woman to shove her opinion up her ass and shut the fuck up."

Sam laughs, and I can't help but laugh with her. I reach out and take her hand in mine, my eyes on the road.

"Look, Sam, those things don't matter to me, you know? It's not like I expect you to be the perfect wife. I don't want to come home and find out that you slaved away after a hard day of work cleaning up the house when I can be helping you. And I also don't want you to care about what those people say. I couldn't care less, baby."

"It's just…what if I'm not doing this right? I'm really trying, you know? I'm trying so hard to be a good wife, to be a good girl and play by the book…I'm giving up so much of myself already by dressing in these Visualize clothes and to know that I'm failing…it frustrates me."

"I know, it kills me too."

"I used to be such a badass, even as a child, and now I feel like…I don't even know myself. Do you remember me when I got here? Always ready for a fight? Watching your every move like a hawk?" She smiles.

"Oh, I do." I smirk.

"Not everything about that girl was bad, you know. I just miss her sometimes."

"I wish we could live in a world where you didn't have to pretend to be someone else. I just want you to know that you never have to do that with me. With me, Sammy, you can always be yourself. Hey!" I protest when she punches my shoulder. "What was that for?"

"You said I can be myself, and myself would punch anyone who called me that. So don't."

"Fair enough." I chuckle. "I also know that that girl would never care about what people thought about her."

"She cared about what you thought…even on the first night, she cared."

"Well, I'm an exception."

"And why is that?"

"Because I would never ask her to be something she's not." I grab her hand and kiss it. "And because I would accept her no matter what."

"She would punch you for being such a girl."

"No she wouldn't." I laugh.

"Don't be so sure of that."

We laugh together, and for a moment I forget I have two thousand and forty nine million problems and just enjoy Sam's company. God, she does make things worth the sacrifice.

"Do you think I'll be a good mother?"

My smile slowly dies, and just like that, I'm brought back down to earth.

"I know you will." I say, and I mean it.

"How do you know?"

"The same way you know I'd be a good father. I just do. I look at you and I know."

"I hope you're right, because I have no experience whatsoever, and my mother wasn't exactly a good role model."

It breaks my heart to know she didn't have a good mother to grow up with. Despite all my mother's flaws, she was still a good parent, and for that I'm grateful. And I know Sam will be a good mother exactly because she didn't have one. Knowing her the way I do, I can already see it, her giving our child everything she didn't get. She's just so special, and any kid would be lucky to have her as a mother.

"Well, think of it this way. Carly will have her baby first, so you can always learn from her obvious mistakes." I shrug.

Sam laughs so hard she throws her head back and the sight gives me a warm and lovely feeling inside my chest. I've always loved her laugh and I think it would look great in a child.

"That's true."

"See? We're all good then."

"All good." She smiles, and kisses me on the cheek. "Yeah, we'll be okay."

I just wish I could believe it as much as she does.

* * *

><p>Sam and I arrive at the clinic. It's a one floored building that used to be a supermarket. I hold her hand and we make it through reception, giving each other the support we need. I know that this is as awful to her as it is to me. The idea of getting pricked with needles and examined in front of a strange doctor unnerves me to the bone. We direct ourselves to the front desk and I squeeze her hand for support.<p>

"We can do this." I tell her.

She nods but doesn't speak, and I know she's biting the inside of her lip in nervousness. The prospect of being naked in front of strangers doesn't excite me either – because if this is anything like the exam I had before getting married, we're definitely not going to be wearing clothes for a while.

There is a young woman behind the glass doing her nails and chewing gum. She can't be older than either Sam or I, and she has her legs up on the desk like she's bored and really doesn't want to be there.

"Hey." I tap on the glass to catch her attention. "We're here for the exam."

"Oh, sure." She says, mouth full of gum. "Your name?"

"Fredward and Samantha Benson."

"Do you have to say that name?" Sam hisses in my ear.

"Sorry, babe, it's your birth name." I whisper back.

"Fredward and Samantha." She reads on a piece of paper. "You just sit and wait, as soon as the other couple is done you can go in."

"Thank you."

Sam and I sit next to each other and I try not to look around. The waiting room is massive and there are at least seven or so couples here. The exams started a week or two ago. Brad and Carly already got their results. Of course, both of them were clean.

"Do you think this will be like the one we had to do before getting married?" Sam whispers.

"Well, I'm pretty sure it will."

"Ugh! I don't want to be naked in front of some stranger." She hisses. "Not again."

"Don't worry, babe, at least it will be a woman." I try to comfort her.

The idea of having another man with his eyes on my wife didn't please me at all. It was so comforting to know at least in this area Visualize did things right. It also didn't please me that I had to be examined by another man, but it's not like I wanted another woman to see me naked…it's just…a guy thing. It's uncomfortable and weird. I guess men don't trust other men with that, not as much women trust other women.

I look around at the other couples in the waiting room – older couples, younger couples, just too many couples. The nurse calls them by pairs, I guess with the intention of speeding up the process. For a post-war world organization, Visualize has too much technology, but coming from them it's doubtful it's ordinary. I just wonder how they can have so much. I mean, raw material to build cars and buildings? Seems suspicious to me.

"You think they'll poke around my lady parts?" Sam whispers in my ear.

"I don't know, babe. Didn't your lady doctor do that already?"

"Yeah, she did, but…ugh, I don't know, I just don't like doctors, more specifically strangers and people touching me."

"People in general or just some people?" I smirk. "Because if I remember correctly, which I do, you _really_ like to be touched."

"Oh, shut up. You know what I'm talking about." She laughs.

"All right, I guess. But look at the bright side, at least you didn't freak out and lose your mind in the first examination, right?" I laugh, but the way Sam stares at me tells me it's not funny.

"You did that?" She whispers.

"I was still too fucked up from the war, let's just say I didn't want anyone to be touching me." I shrug.

"So?"

"So, what?"

"What happened?"

"They had to strap me to the bed, but it's in the past now, Sam, it doesn't matter." I rub her shoulder, because it really doesn't matter at all. I've moved on, I'm fine now.

"I just…everything you went through…hurts me." She stares down at her hands. "I'm sorry. I wish things were different."

"Me too, but you don't have to feel sorry for me, it's not your fault, baby." I kiss the side of her head.

"I know, I know. I just…" She sighs, and rubs her hand on her face. I immediately regret opening my damn mouth.

"I shouldn't have said anything. It's done now, Sam, it's all done, okay? I have you and you have me and we're good."

"For now."

"No, forever. Now how about we move past that?"

"Have you ever imagined what it would be like if we had met under normal circumstances?" She smiles.

"What do you mean?" I don't really know what she means by "normal circumstances_._"

"Oh, come on, you know. If the war never happened and we were able to grow up like our parents did – you know…free."

"Uh…I try not to think about what could have been. I just think about what it can be, Sam. It's a waste of time to wonder about things that will never happen." I shrug, trying to brush off the subject. I don't actually think about the possibilities of a normal life, I guess I just grew too used to the reality I live in to think about anything else.

"I bet you would be a geek. I mean, you have this whole nerdy thing about you…" Sam starts, obviously ignoring what I just said. "And I'd still be a badass."

"But I lived in Seattle and you in Texas. How would we have met?" I ask, really annoyed. Does she really have to go there?

"I don't know…I always thought I would move out of Texas to a big city and start fresh. You would probably go to college and I would be a waitress or something. Then one night you would be sitting at a table eating those two eggs with the bacon smile and drinking coffee, while studying of course. And I don't know…some jerk would try to slap me in the ass and you, having this hero complex you have, would try and defend my honor, but I would kick the guy's ass and tell you I didn't need any help. We would fight, but you would always come back and sit at the same table anyway.

"One night, I would start a conversation, telling you how pathetic and nerdy you are and we would be…friends? Nah, probably frenemies. But then, some months after all the sexual tension that had been increasing, you would ask me out and I would say no. But you wouldn't give up, so eventually I would say yes. It wouldn't be easy, but the sex would be fantastic and at some point we would fall in love, but I would chicken out because loves scares the crap out of me. We would break up, but then you would go after me in the rain and we would kiss and make up."

She tells the story with such comical expression that I have to try and contain my laughter.

"Really?"

"Yeah." Sam says, really quick before returning to her story. "Then we would be together, at some point I'd find a better thing to do than being a waitress. Maybe start a cupcake business, since I'm pretty good at it and you would help me with the administration, and you would be smart and people would throw promotions your way. One day, you would propose to me and I'd say yes, because by then I'd be less scared. We would move to a bigger apartment, because I'd never move into the suburbs and we'd have at least three kids and a dog. There, that would be our love story."

"For a girl who claims not to be romantic you sure told a good story for a chick flick." I laugh.

"Oh, shut up." She crosses her arms against her chest.

"I think you would do a lot better than a waitress, Sam. I think you would move to the big city to attend some fancy cooking school and we would meet in between colleges. Maybe a friend of yours or mine would hook us up and the first date would be a disaster and we wouldn't like each other at first, but then we would become…what was that again? Oh, yeah, frenemies. But somewhere along a bumpy road of fighting, sexual tension and jealousy, we would fall in love and be together. Now the part where you would have your own business and I'd be the boss of whatever work I had can stay the same. And I think I like my version way more."

"Well, I like mine, because at least it's realistic." Sam shrugs.

I'm about to answer when some woman starts to call out for people.

"_Thomas and Elle Hut. Edward and Maya Stonen. Oliver and Sarah Connelly. Fredward and Samantha Benson."_

I feel Sam tensing by my side and hold tightly to her hand. It's time…all right, I'm ready for this, I've been ready for worse. My only concern is Sam, and I guess that transpired onto my face, because soon enough she is glaring at me.

"I'll be fine, Freddie. If you can do this, then so can I. And besides, I've never backed down from anything before, I'm not going to start now."

She gets up before me, still attached to my hand, making me get up as well. In the end, she's the one dragging me out of my chair, and I recognize that sometimes she can be way stronger than I am – most of the time, to be honest.

We follow the other couples through a long corridor as I grasp her hand firmly. I'm not afraid of what's next, I don't fear the results, I already know everything will be fine – but doctors make me uneasy anyway.

"Ladies to this side, please. Gentleman, follow the man in the white coat on that side, please." The woman says.

I feel Sam hesitating to let go of my hand, and I guess I must be doing the same thing, because the woman in yellow scrubs pulls Sam by the arm. It's like everything goes by in slow motion as our hands are torn apart. I watch her enter the cold white room while I'm being pulled to another. And that is the last I see of Sam – the last I'll be seeing of her for a while.

* * *

><p>The exams were awful. I had an awful day. The damn nurse didn't let met be with Sam and I couldn't even hold her hand when they pricked her with a needle. I had to be tested for hours and pricked with needles everywhere. I don't know what they are expecting to find, but I can guarantee they won't find anything. I'm sure I haven't been unfaithful and neither had Sam. We're all the other can take, anyway.<p>

I'm currently waiting in the reception area for Sam. Her exams are longer than mine because she's a woman, I think. I'm still trying to recover from having to…put my jizz in a cup so they can investigate whether I'm fertile or not. I don't know what the point of this exam is. I did it once before I married Sam, do they really think I'm going to suddenly not be fertile anymore? And besides, I've never been one much for masturbation, no matter the circumstances. In my entire life, I'd probably made the bold man cry seven to nine times, which is not normal for guys my age, I know, but what really gets me going is the human warmth, the smells, the tastes, not just a stupid picture or something.

I spot my wife walking into the room looking utterly traumatized. For a moment I wonder what went down in that room, and I get up, already feeling my blood start to boil. Sam walks up to me and hugs me fiercely.

"Tell me what they did to you and I'll kill them all." I whisper in her ear with anger and hate ready to burst out.

"Don't hulk out." She whispers. "I'm fine. I just really hate doctors, strangers and people touching me."

"You wouldn't lie to me, right?"

There's a tiny doubt about that in my mind. Not that I don't trust her, but she lied before, so…I only doubt because I know she would lie to my face if it was to protect me. She wouldn't say a word if something happened because she wouldn't want me to "hulk out" in front of at least five guards.

"No, not anymore." Sam pulls back, looking a little offended I asked. "Why would you even think that?"

"I'm sorry…I just…you're right. I just want you to be all right, that's all."

"You need to slow down with the hero complex, Freddie." She whispers angrily. "Because believe it or not, I can take care of myself."

"I'm sorry, you're right. Let's not do this in here."

Sam nods and sighs, hesitating before taking the hand I offer. I don't want her to be mad at me…I just want her to understand. We walk to the car and I let go of her hand so we can both get inside. Once I close my door and she closes hers I turn to her, ready to apologize.

"It's something that started in the war." I tell her. "It wasn't my first battle, it wasn't the first time I'd killed a person, it wasn't the first time I saw a friend of mine die in the middle of the battlefield, but still, it doesn't matter, because it's always different every time."

Sam looks at me with a mix of confusion and distress.

"You know Sam, when you see the people you learned to care about die every day in front of you and you can't do anything to help them, it makes you think – at least it makes me think. I always thought I could've done something different, that I could have, but I didn't, so I feel the guilt. I couldn't save my father. I couldn't stop them from taking him, and I couldn't stop that man who shot him to death. I couldn't help my mother. God, I don't even know where she died or how. I don't know if she suffered, I don't know if it was quick, I don't even know what kind of shit she went through. I was impotent, I was useless, and I was weak. I couldn't stop myself from taking all these lives, even though I kept telling myself it was the right thing to do,but was it really? And what about the lives I couldn't save in the field? My friends died around me and I couldn't even save them, I was impotent. I couldn't even save my own captain, the man I learned to see as a father, from going into that building, into that fire and burning to the ground.

"I tried. I swear to you I did. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, and I didn't even care for Brad's screams. He kept saying "you can't save him anymore."I knew I couldn't, not after the explosion, not after the building started to collapse, but I went in anyway. I looked, I tried, but it was hard. I kept going, kept telling myself I could do it, I was trained for it, damn it! So when the fire got to me I was forced to get out of there before the whole thing collapsed over me, but I always wondered if there was something, anything, I could've done.

"You know, Sam, when I put my mind to work and think and contemplate the facts, I know, logically, that I could've saved him, and if I stayed there one more moment I would've died too, but something inside of me always feels so…helpless. The fire burnt my skin…" I lift my shirt a little so she can see the scars, "but still…the pain seems so small now, and I always think I could have endured more, stayed longer, or been faster. I can't help but think I could have done something that I didn't.

"And with you…I feel like I have the chance to protect you, no matter what I have to do. With you I never want to be weak, never want to take any chances, I never want to be a little too late. I know, Sam, I swear I know I'm being too overprotective at times…well, most of the time, but I promise you it's something I'm working on. I never want you to feel helpless, like you can't take care of yourself. And I don't want to take care of you because you can't do it yourself, but because I want to…need to, really, and because I feel like this time I can do it."

"It is not your fault." She says sharply. "You cannot carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, Freddie. Not everything has to be your fault. You can't protect everyone and save everyone. You have to accept that, otherwise you'll never be able to move on. You'll never be cured from your traumas, you'll never really be happy. It's over and done with now, and things happen the way they need to happen. You have to accept it."

"Do you think I don't want to? Do you think it's easy for me? Sometimes I try so hard I get lost in my head as I seek some sort of redemption, some sort of forgiveness, but I'm so lost I can't find it."

Sam reaches out for me and touches my face. It's only when I feel her thumbs wiping away my tears that I know I'm crying.

"Let me help you."

"I would if I could. Let's just go home, okay. I'm tired, you're tired. Let's just leave this whole conversation behind." I put the key in the ignition and turn away from her.

"You have to let me in, Freddie, even in the deepest, darkest corners of your mind. Sometimes I can't help but think there is so much you keep from me – so much you don't want me to see. And I don't know why. I'd love you anyway and you know that."

She turns to her side, looking out the window. I start the car but don't really go anywhere, and we sit in silence for a while.

"It's not that I don't want you to see all the sides of me, Sam. It's not that I don't want to let you in the deepest, darkest, places of my mind. It's that I still can't do it myself. There are thing I'm still keeping to myself. But I promise that the day I'm able to deal with the skeletons in my closet, you'll be the first person I let in."

One of her hands touches my face softly. Her touch is always so soothing; it warms me up and calms me down. I turn my head to her, and she rests our foreheads together. Her breath is hot against my face, her hands play softly with the hair on the back of my neck and the other tugs on the collar of my shirt.

"Okay." She whispers. "Okay. All right."

"Thank you."

She brushes her lips against mine softly before she pulls away.

"Let's go home. All this intensity has made me really hungry."

"Your wish is my command."

I drive home, relived she let it go – for now. It'll have to be good enough for now.

* * *

><p>I'm almost past the kitchen door when a knock sounds from the front door. When we got home I was sure I was going to have some time to rest and just spend the rest of the day with Sam and relax, but I guess that's not happening. Sam groans from the couch where she threw herself the first chance she got and covered her eyes with her arm.<p>

"Can you get that?" she sounds exhausted.

"Yeah, sure babe." I'm not less tired than she is, but I can't even begin to understand how awful it must have been for her, today of all days, so I do what she asks. "I'll get it. And to hell with whoever is out there."

I open the door and see a very nervous Brad tapping his foot on the floor. He's cracking his knuckles. He never cracks his knuckles unless something really bad is happening. I almost curse him for bringing his bad news to me, but then I remember he's my best friend, and that's part of the package. I just hope Carly and the baby are all right.

"What's up, Brad?" I try not to sound mad or upset or frustrated because this could be important.

"I have to talk to you." He announces, looking around nervously.

"Oh…"

The last time he looked this nervous…well, it wasn't a walk in the park. I prepare myself for the worst because I know what's coming will be bad for sure.

"What is it?" I hear Sam yelling from the living room.

"Come on in." I tell Brad.

He nods and follows me in, closing the door behind him. The last thing I wanted right now was to bring trouble to Sam, but I guess I have to stop being so overbearing. Maybe I've got that in my genes, maybe I took after my mother in that respect. She wasn't the easiest parent to deal with and maybe I developed some of her craziness – it was bound to happen. Well, I have plenty of craziness to deal with already, it's not the right time to be melancholy.

"Brad, hi." Sam gets up quickly, assuming a more tense posture. "Is everything okay? Is Carly okay? Is the baby okay?"

"Carly is fine Sam and so is the baby, thank you for asking."

"Oh." She sits back on the couch. "Then why are you here? No offense."

"None taken." He answers, tucking his hand inside his pocket. "I'm here to talk to Freddie."

"Whatever you have to say to him you can say in front of me." Sam announces, visibly annoyed.

Brad gives me a side look, but I nod my agreement to Sam's words. We promised no more secrets or lies, so whatever he has to say to me, he can say in front of my wife.

"You need to come with me, Freddie." Brad tells me, but looks carefully at Sam.

"Why?" She stands up, assuming a more protective position next to me.

"The president wants to see you. Now."

For some reason I don't feel afraid or threatened. I don't know why, but I have the conviction that this meeting is not going to put me at risk. I feel a certainty that I'm not in harms way, but I turn my eyes to Sam, and she doesn't seem to be feeling what I'm feeling. I take her hand and her eyes turn to me instantly. I never want to look in her eyes and see fear in them ever again.

"Babe, I'll be fine. I'll come back in a couple of hours." I kiss the back of her hand and she pulls me closer to her.

"Freddie, I don't know about this." She whispers nervously.

"Sam, I'll be fine, okay? Brad will come with me." I kiss her forehead and then turn my attention to Brad. "Can Sam keep Carly company? I don't want her alone here."

"Sure." Brad nods.

"I'm not afraid of being alone here!" She protests.

"I know that, but I won't be comfortable leaving you alone while you're so nervous. We had a stressful day and you're nervous. It won't do you any good staying here on your own, pacing around the room, waiting for me to come back. Go keep Carly company and I'll be back before you can miss me."

She gives me a hard look, but I can tell the battle is won. After I see her shoulders relaxing a little, I hug her tight and take her by the hand.

"Should I change my clothes or...?"

"No, you're fine. Let's just get this over with." Brad walks out of the house, and I follow closely, pulling a very angry looking Sam with me.

After we arrive at Brad's house, he opens the door for Sam, and before she can get in I pull her close, resting my forehead against hers.

"I'll come back to you." I tell her with my eyes closed.

I can feel her sighing and relaxing against me, so I take her face in my hands and kiss her gently.

"I'll always come back to you." I whisper.

"I know." She whispers. "Just…get home soon. I wanna crawl into bed with you and never leave again."

Chuckling, I kiss her goodbye and very unwillingly release her. She walks into the house and looks at me one last time before closing the door behind her. I squeeze the bridge of my nose and then turn to Brad.

"What's really going on?" I ask him.

"I don't know. All I know is that while you were out a messenger came for you. I was coming home with Carly the doctor's appointment when I saw him. I asked him who he was looking for and if I could take a message. All he said was that the president wished to see you today and that was it. All I know is where to take you." Brad scratches the back of his neck. "Is there something I should know?"

"Come on, I'll tell you on the way." I signal for him to get into his car. "Where are you taking me?"

"That new building you're working on."

We get into his car and he starts to drive. I can feel his nervousness and it's starting to become contagious. I have absolutely no idea what's going on or what the president wants with me. Perhaps to talk about the propaganda we agreed on filming, but then why didn't he ask Sam to come along? Perhaps he wants to talk about the building…but I'm not the engineer responsible for the work sight.

"Freddie, I just want you to know that whatever happens, you're not alone." Brad pulls me out of my thoughts.

"I know, just...take care of Sam if something happens." I say.

He nods.

Brad doesn't say his infamous _everything will be okay, nothing's going to happen, _he just drives in silence. I guess he finally got the clue that I'm not as stupid as I look. Whatever is going to happen, I'm ready for it, as long as I have the guarantee that Sam will be safe.

* * *

><p><em>Coldplay – Death And All His Friends.<em>

* * *

><p><em>So, I know it's been a long time since I've updated, and I'm sorry to let you guys down, but things have been crazy lately. I got a job, and I have a million of other things to do. I'm also into other shows, and to be honest when I have time to write, I just don't because I'm just so not into this anymore, that all I wanna do on my free time is watch Castle, or Raising Hope or Once Upon A Time. And I'm sorry guys. I know most of you are disappointed with the ending of iCarly and how everything happened, I know I'm there too, but I'm not sure if I can keep this fic going. Part of me is just busy as hell and just wants to rest on my free time. Part of me is so into other stuff that just doesn't have to will for this. Part of me is just disappointed with iCarly ending, and part of me knew this was going to happen. But most of all, I just been working on something new, something of my own (original work) and the time I have to write I just end up writing the new thing instead of this. But I'm going to try to update this story until it's over, I don't want to disappoint you guys like Dan did. Instead of 50 chapters, like I originally planned, I'm going for 40, and I'm going to try to write everything. I have chapter 33 on the making, but so far it's not good enough, so I might have to make a few adjustments, but I'll try. I cannot promise a sequel, but who knows what might happen, right? But the truth of everything is: since the Klaine break up I've been a little too sick of OTPs, disappointed really, and probably hurt, which means I have a serious problem and have to get a life. So, I'm sorry, again, and I promise to try and see what I can do to make this work. Love you guys.<em>

_Edited by the always awesome clarksonfan._


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